Friday, June 29, 2007

I'm the Bad Man.

Okay. So. Heart rate still a little elevated. Breathe.
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Suki just scratched Amoryn.
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To give you some context, it wasn't like the evil Siamese in "Lady & The Tramp"; it was because he was trying to jump onto me as I was carrying her upstairs to put her down for her morning nap. But still! He knows that it's Not Okay To Jump On Me When I Have The Baby. Or at least I thought his little brain had made that connection, since it has been etablished since prior to Am's birth.
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(Suki's pointy little feet landing *bwonk* on my belly in the last trimester? Not So Cool, Dude.)
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Apparently the lack of affection has finally driven him to desperate measures. So, after following me from the basement to the main floor to the upstairs stairwell, he decided to ignore my vague promises of "Later, Buddy", and take matters into his own paws.
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Unfortunately, Amoryn's head was in the way of his plan. Now, it's not a deep & bloody scratch; it's one of those scratches that leaves a raised welt, but no permanent mar, or even broken skin. But it's long, and runs from under her eye to her ear, and it! woke! her! up!!!! In a bad way! And then I had to Bactine it! And that woke her again & made her cry! And it was all very bad!
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Including the part where I dumped Suki unceremoniously down, & then smacked him once I reached the top of the stairs, after looking at Am's little scratch. And it wasn't a 'measured punishment' smack; it was more of a 'wrath of mamma' smite. I smote my cat.
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So. I am the bad man, in that I hit my cat, when all he wanted was some love. (He's so full of love! Has lots of love to give! Will love anyone! Everyone! I'd say he's a kitty whore, but really, he gives it away for free.) However, he acted wrongly (something about that looks weird, but meh, english majors, you email me & tell me why), and this is the thrid strike for ....
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...DUN, DUN-DUN DUN...
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...having him declawed. Which is yes, I know, really cutting off the first joint of his toes. The other strikes? Scratching at the furniture. Gratuitously. And scratching the bejeebers out of thighs, when he should be a lap cat & then realizes, no, he's a highly strung ninja-cat, & must per-toing! spring away to fight the evil powers of the neighbour's weed whipper, or something.
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And having the cats declawed (they're going to toe my line! hahaha!) is bad, I know, but the other options for the other two were:
1)trying to recover a $6K couch set with the hide of one Siamese-Manx cross
2)euthanasia for furniture, paper product protection
3)a nice drive out to the countryside. In a Soprano's kind of way.
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But I feel much worse about it with Suki, because I know his motives are pure, it's just that his little brain isn't that big, and really, he's my little buddy. He was my pal in Bowness, & kept me from being so lonely. (Before I got Suki, I would spend an extra hour or two in the drugstore on the way home, just to avoid the empty apartment. I would do that almost every night.)
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So it seems like a real betrayal to have his toes taken away, especially as he's such an athletic cat. But! *insert mamma glower* He scratched my baby! And really, with no front claws, we would be more willing to entertain Dr. Scratchyl/Mr. Purr in our laps, so he would have less of a love deficit.
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I'll see what the man says when he gets home. I'm going to go & shower & then sew in the basement & wait for the cable guy.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Rats? That's new.

If you know me, you may know that I occasionally lapse into fits of sentimentality, bordering on or wallowing in tears. These are usually triggered by National Geographic stories about horses, or varying other types of schlock entertainment about horses.
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To date, the lowest form of entertainment has been the movie Alexander. I totally misted up when Al met Bucephalus. And I out & out bawled when ol' Bucky died. Thankfully, the man was asleep on the couch at the time; I didn't have to explain myself. And yes, I watched the whole movie. In my self-defense, I was sick with a cold & couldn't comfort myself with NyQil. And I was all pregnant-lady hormonal too.
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Last night, Pat was watching tv. It was some kind of "news around the world show". I wandered off when they started discussing how Indonesia has been rebuilt since the wave, and came back in time for the article on the giant African rats that are being trained to sniff out land mines. (Almost typed land-mimes. Now there's a funny segue... wouldn't need rats to find them, though.) It was pretty interesting - they're far more efficient than other methods, etc etc.
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And then it hit me. A wave of mush. Emotional mush.
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Do you think it was the images of the small African children playing happily, now that there are no landmines in their fields?
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No.
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It was the fact that, because the rats are nocturnal, the handlers put sunscreen on their ears. Their wee ratty ears would sunburn, so they put sunscreen on them! How noble, the rat, sniffing along, endangering his life & limbs to flag landmines, and they sunscreen his ears for him. Thinking about it, I should feel cynical, because really, wouldn't he be better off in a little UV resistant bomb suit? But no. Waves of tenderness & schmaltz.
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Yes, I know I'm bonkers. But look! These are special rats, African giant pouch rats, and they're sort of cute. Unlike the norwegian ugly rats, or the creepy white lab rats.

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Here's the Nat Geog news article (also featuring bees):
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Here's the organization:
(Aww! Their ears!)

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

In Loving Color

I was drifting off to sleep the other night, mulling life. (This is how I accelerate the unwind/sleep process; I self-ponticate until I get so bored with myself that I drift off.) And I was trying to figure out the inane question "How My Life Has Changed". It's like "What I Did On My Summer Vacation", but not. At first, I approached the standard questions.
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"Do I Feel Different?" Yeeees. Although I feel pretty close, physically, to my old self, with much stronger arms.
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"Am I A Better Person?" Huh. Maybe? Maybe not? I didn't think I was that bad before. Now, I am mostly the same, with more occasional crazy* slipping out.
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*Eg: I got mad because the tin of tea fell off of the shelf in the pantry door & onto my head for like, the 16th time. So I picked it up, marched over to the door, & flung it into the backyard. Then I forgot about it. Until the fateful day when the man was out weeding. "I found this in the yard by the fence." I blushed & explained. "Why didn't you just move it to a different shelf after the first time?" "I never thought of it, that's why." Also, I am crazy around the edges.
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"Do You Have Any Regrets?" Der, of course; I regret not having bacon for breakfast, man. But, instead of dwelling on my bacon-less morning, I vow to have bacon, soon, & relish it thoroughly. I try to apply this to everything in my life. I also regret the horrible gurgling noise that just came out of Amoryn's diaper, & the smell that is even now wafting upwards. Think of bacon! Think of bacon!
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***brief break***

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"What Are You Most Thankful For?" Well, the wonderfully engineered poo-containing qualities of Huggies are close to the top of the list. The top two, though, are my big sweet baby, & my big sweet man. I'm also very glad and very very thankful that Amoryn is as sweet as she is & she's healthy as a rapidly growing miniature horse. That emotion becomes even stronger whenever I hear or read of others who aren't as lucky - this isn't schadenfreude, people; this is just recognition of how very lucky the man & I have been with our girl. If you need something to wake you up & make you realize just how much you have in life, I suggest reading the very courageous & heartbreaking blog of a mother of preemie twins, who loses one. Email me if you want the link - beautiful, heartwrenching.
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"What's The Worst Part?" Hm. The first thing I thought of is the dehydrating scent of tarragon, day three. But that's something I could inflinct on myself at any time, not particularily linked to motherhood. I think the worst part is trying not to be too hard on myself - I get tired, I get impatient, I cry... then I feel guilty for not being stronger, for not relishing every single minute I have with my girl, even if it is minute 1,432 of Howling Inconsolable Purple Faced Rage. Or I feel bad, because the man often bears the brunt of the crazy, and what happened to his regular wife? Who is this evil harridan?
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"What's The Most Irritating?" Endless reminders Not To Shake The Baby. I know, I know! The books, the magazines, the newsletters, the articles, the pamphlets... they all say not to. And I won't! And I tell my sitters not to! And I'm feeling guilty, just because I've recieved so much NTSTB literature, it must be something they think I could do! Ack!
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"What's The Best Thing?" Being a parent, duh; the answer is Amoryn! Amoryn! Amoryn! is the best! The next best part - watching the man be a dad. That rocks.
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Then my brain was all "Meh, enough, change the channel." And I was just drifting along, & I realized that it's like Amoryn has brought a new color into my life. My love & hopes & fears have changed how the world looks to me. It's all different now. Try to imagine a world where you hadn't noticed blue before. Then one day, whammo! There's blue everywhere! There's blue bowls, blue jeans, little blue flowers out in the yard. There's blue on the tv, in the quilt pattern, and blue in the shadows. And then there's the sky, man, my god, the sky. It's almost as mind blowing as my baby's blue eyes.
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That's "How My Life Has Changed".

Friday, June 15, 2007

Oh, all right,

I admit, every two weeks or so isn't the best track record for posting. But! My girl! She smiles, she's fun, she's sweet. As her dad says, "I can confidently say that she is the cutest baby since the beginning of time."
(And I reliably post pics every week or so, so really, who cares what I have to say? All we wants is baby pictures, prescious...)

Want some? Here's the Flickr link:


And I've even found a site for posting videos of Amoryn - Vimeo - still not entirely sure how it works. And I wouldn't bother trying to watch them if you're in a dial-up world...
That's all for now, going to go & do fun things with my girl!