tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4786577345633180362012-02-01T17:19:57.805-05:00The Smirking Cat!My no-holding-back, brutally honest, and sincere place to rant, rave, and otherwise make observations. Like it? Stay. Don't? You know what to do.Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.comBlogger6851100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-86532687070793314552012-01-31T11:40:00.001-05:002012-01-31T11:42:13.492-05:00Doctor DeathDove marched into the living room recently, her new toy doctor bag in hand, and asked sternly, "Who is feeling sick in here?"
Gary naively offered himself up by telling her, "I don't feel so good, doctor."
Dove wandered closer to him, gave him a quick once-over, and announced, "You need fourteen shots."
Gary of course protested, but Dr. Dove would hear none of it. She climbed authoritatively Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-82311779128045973062012-01-30T10:21:00.000-05:002012-01-30T10:21:36.292-05:00Good HeartWatching Gary last week after the car accident, watching him tend to everyone and make sure everyone was okay as best as he could, I thought about how it was far from the first time I saw Gary immediately help someone without stopping to think about it. Gary is one of the few people I know who has a genuinely good heart, and is loving and giving without expecting anything in return.
I also Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-35684634113453780292012-01-23T12:19:00.004-05:002012-01-23T12:35:22.839-05:00The Woman in the CarI don't know how to describe what happened last night.
After we dropped the kids off, Gary and I were driving back home, talking about the weekend and hashing out plans for dinner, when the headlights picked up a scene that took a moment for my sleepy brain to piece together. The smoke and steam still billowing from a twisted semi truck in the median were lit up from headlights of cars on theSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-65546334254795226262012-01-20T10:07:00.000-05:002012-01-20T10:07:44.300-05:00Not Last...YetAfter losing seven games in a row, the Tampa Bay Lightning managed to finally yank out a victory Tuesday night against Boston (I imagine the Bruins really felt like crap after losing that one). It's hard to celebrate much, though, after being disappointed again...and again...and again.
I couldn't say it better than Jeff Briscoe on Yahoo! Sports: "So many factors are misfiring for the LightningSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-31470713675942020242012-01-17T16:27:00.000-05:002012-01-17T16:27:35.726-05:00Compared to You...While my stalker was deep-throating my blog over the weekend, frantically salivating through the archives of my blog, digging desperately through posts from last year, and bingeing on old comments she has read over and over...
...I was out of town, enjoying a relaxing and fun weekend with Gary, not thinking about my blog, my stalker, or anything else but the great time that Gary and I were Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-83453882119370329872012-01-09T09:19:00.001-05:002012-01-09T09:20:23.566-05:00Aggravation!Have you ever had the wondrous experience of playing the board game Aggravation? I actually had not, until this past weekend, but my brothers and I played the game Trouble as kids and always ended up in near fist fights, as four highly competitive, type-A personalities should never even look at a game like that.In case you've never had the joy of playing, both Aggravation and Trouble consist of Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-6735473105929062272012-01-06T10:05:00.001-05:002012-01-06T10:06:42.295-05:00How Does It Feel?I must admit to the occasional moment, probably due to random hormonal shifts or a temporarily misfiring synapse, when I actually feel a small twinge of sympathy for Ala. Yes, believe it or not, sometimes, briefly, I do feel sorry for her.
It doesn't last long, mind you. Her brand of craziness is chosen, and her behavior and actions, however inexcusable, are deliberately orchestrated by her Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-44432077307464069112012-01-05T10:41:00.000-05:002012-01-05T10:41:40.922-05:00Hell CatThe other night, Gary and I were minding our own business, relaxing innocently in the living room, when suddenly a manic blur of black and white fur exploded into the room, zoomed to the far wall, ricocheted, and rocketed back into the hallway. I glanced over at Gary, who just rolled his eyes with disgust. My cat, Sylvester, was acting up...again.
Sylvester performed this circuit, ripping fromSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-70653715363331755282011-12-30T11:29:00.001-05:002011-12-30T11:29:44.902-05:00Facebook Feeding FrenzyFour million children post content online every day.
20% of children ages 10-17 have been solicited sexually online.
Forty-four percent of teens with profiles like facebook or myspace have been contacted by a stranger, compared to 16% of teens without these profiles.
One out of 17 children have been harassed, threatened, or bullied online.
Between 2007 and 2009, Myspace had to delete 90,000 Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-75074292924788403982011-12-29T12:28:00.000-05:002011-12-29T12:28:21.125-05:00ThirteenToday, Wolverine has left the world of kiddie land and has strutted bravely into the realm of teenager...thirteen years old! Does anything make you feel older than a child becoming a teenager?
Gary and I jokingly call Wolverine "Little Daddy" because, as the oldest, he has always been a helper, eager to pitch in and step up. Unfortunately, part of that is because too much responsibility has Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-46151866308093790772011-12-24T13:13:00.000-05:002011-12-24T13:13:27.658-05:00Christmas Dance...Just for YouRosie, Sylvester, and even the late and beloved legend, Tweetie, have collaborated to bring you the heartwarming and spectacular holiday dance that awaits you when you click this magical link:
My Cats' Christmas Dance for You
They practiced and rehearsed rigorously for months on end to prepare for this show-stopping performance! I believe you will be properly and duly impressed.
Autographs Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-25328403011039736632011-12-23T09:07:00.000-05:002011-12-23T09:07:46.369-05:00Last Minute Christmas Gifts for the Psycho on YOUR ListOnly a few more days until Christmas! Never fear, for I have scoured the Internet for some last-minute gift ideas sure to please the psycho (or someone who puts up with a psycho) on your list.
Since many of my readers must contend with their boyfriend's or husband's imbalanced and nuttier-than-a-fruitcake ex-wife, what better present for your beleaguered man than a t-shirt that says it all?:
Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-73333781892189569102011-12-22T09:14:00.000-05:002011-12-22T09:14:55.608-05:00Dear SantaIn case you can't read number one on this child's Christmas wish list, it says, "Custody papers that says I can see my dad more often". I suppose, when the family courts and the so-called family lawyers and your own egg donor fail you, it doesn't seem that far-fetched to ask Santa to think of your best interests in their place.
*Santa letter courtesy of Fathers & Families Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-55836517349256190002011-12-21T15:05:00.000-05:002011-12-21T15:05:15.713-05:00Jesus Doesn't Like Yoga?If you don't want me to make fun of something, please don't make it impossible for me not to, or practically beg me to mock you. Case in point: PrayFit, the 33-Day Total Body Challenge. How did I stumble across this gem, if I wasn't actively looking for Sweatin' with Jesus videos? It was actually emailed to me by Collage Video, a company I generally like and have ordered from before. Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-31507185870078068582011-12-20T15:02:00.000-05:002011-12-20T15:02:07.503-05:00A MomentI've been rushing around since this weekend, obsessively running down a mental checklist, trying to make sure everything is checked off and in place before my guests arrive this week for Christmas. I wandered into the kitchen last night for something, not even sure what anymore, and I paused when I saw Gary sitting at the table. He was bent over one his drawings, studying it, pencil poised to Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-90664585212216118062011-12-12T12:18:00.000-05:002011-12-12T12:18:35.410-05:00Tennis Super StarsYesterday, Gary and the kids and I packed up some tennis racquets and a bag of tennis balls, and we headed to the park. We started off in the racquetball court near the playground, just goofing off by hitting a ball against the wall and taking turns whacking it when it bounced back to us. With limited tennis skills distributed thinly among six of us, this was a barely-controlled zoo with just Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-85617552253108859172011-12-08T10:14:00.000-05:002011-12-08T10:14:40.963-05:00Two TreesGary is the luckiest man in the world: I woke him up this morning with a tricked-out, ultra-fabulous, customized version of "Happy Birthday" like he has never heard before (and likely never wishes to hear again). He returned the favor by swearing on the Bible that I promised certain carnal favors as birthday offerings.
So, moving on...what the heck does this picture of trees have to do with Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-39720437307670413312011-12-05T11:46:00.001-05:002011-12-05T11:47:05.112-05:00Lower Your StandardsTraveling to Hickville is like tumbling down a rabbit hole into a Twilight Zone of inbred absurdity. How anyone could drag the kids there and force them to live there is beyond me: we are not talking merely a small town, but a small-minded, backward, group-think wad of detestable humanoids and walking stereotypes hell-bent on making sure their unfortunate offspring don't ever escape the Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-3358527453679701202011-11-29T12:18:00.000-05:002011-11-29T12:18:11.301-05:00Death by ChocolateOne year, Bear requested a chocolate cake with chocolate icing for his birthday. Gary made one just as he wished, a gooey, rich chocolate overload that spiked our blood sugar levels and nearly sank all of us into a sweetness coma. Last year we managed to distract him with a different kind of cake, but this year, Bear asked for the chocolate-on-chocolate cake again.
Gary and I grimaced but Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-30010703904901643402011-11-28T14:14:00.000-05:002011-11-28T14:14:59.122-05:00Meet the FamilyI have heard so many stories about Gary's colorful and lively family that his relatives are like larger-than-life storybook characters to me. After five years together, though, I had never met them in person. It's a bit of a drive to where Gary grew up, and every time he has gone back home, I haven't been able to go.
Until this Thanksgiving, that is. I was actually nervous about going, Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-49769112596746291652011-11-15T11:45:00.001-05:002011-11-15T12:06:17.392-05:00Glad She Hates MeIt's not newsworthy to me, to my readers, and especially to the kids that the children's mother claims to not be terribly fond of me.
What she is willing to admit to as the reasons for her distaste, however, are a far cry from reality. Before ever meeting me, Ala bad-mouthed me to the kids. The kids were fed a guilt-laden sob story laced with lies about a woman Ala knew nothing about (exceptSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-77009209194148284012011-11-14T09:37:00.000-05:002011-11-14T09:37:29.368-05:00SassGary to Dove: What's the matter, sweetheart?
Dove: Oh, nothing...just tired.
Gary: Tired? Tired of what?
Dove: Tired of your sassing.Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-28114298507739950552011-11-07T11:21:00.000-05:002011-11-07T11:21:25.218-05:00Call of the WildAs soon as the temperature started to drop, I felt the call of the wild: time to go camping again! My favorite part of camping is the solitude, the peace and quiet, leaving everything behind for a while and getting away into nature. I love walking through the woods, the taste of dinner cooked over fire, and I can think of nothing better as the night becomes chilly than snuggling with Gary Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-38734684402063161112011-11-03T14:18:00.000-04:002011-11-03T14:18:50.066-04:00Puss in BootsWhen a new kids' movie comes out, I usually hope the kids somehow miraculously never saw the previews so that I won't have to go sit through it. (Chipmunks? Spy Kids? Smurfs? Spare me.) But the first time I saw a preview for Puss in Boots, I was instantly and hopelessly hooked.
Okay, it's a no-brainer. I'm a certified cat person. This is a movie about a cat...and not only about a cat, but Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-72567563995627247712011-10-31T09:48:00.000-04:002011-10-31T09:48:34.822-04:00I Have No AuthorityAfter a rowdy afternoon at the park, Gary, the kids, and I went to Dairy Queen yesterday for ice cream. The kids love the high tables with the chairs that are more like bar stools, so we grouped around one of those to eat our ice cream.
Gary and the kids started goofing off, sliding my drink cup in front of me and nudging it toward me until it threatened to topple into my lap. Deciding to Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-7342463305894199702011-10-27T14:38:00.000-04:002011-10-27T14:38:44.632-04:00Eight Years OldToday Sunflower is the ripe old age of 8! I first met her when she was 3 and so tiny. Now that she has grown so much, she likes to tell me, "Pick me up!" just to see if I can still do it. For now, I'm still able to just barely lift her up and keep us both from collapsing directly to the ground, but I have a suspicion that the day I can't pick her up anymore is right around the corner.
She's Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-82747495872548372012011-10-26T10:01:00.000-04:002011-10-26T10:01:52.069-04:00TurnaroundWhen my Lightning lost five games in a row, I sighed, pushed my hockey jerseys to the back of the closet, and resigned myself to the fact that unless watching my team getting obliterated over and over was my kind of fun (it's not), then this hockey season wasn't going to be worth watching.
Like a crack addict, though, I can't stay away from hockey for very long. I watched the Lightning play theSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-37773063044303402372011-10-25T09:20:00.001-04:002011-10-25T09:22:18.689-04:00Truth Hurts...the KidsLong ago, Gary adopted a hands-off, low-contact approach with Ala. Her attention-seeking, drama-loving nonsense needed to be chopped off at the roots, and responding to only what truly warranted a response let us focus on us, on the kids, our family, and far less on her histrionics, temper tantrums, insults, and silly games.
The less Gary has allowed himself to be tugged into Ala's drama, Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-58612908580948445862011-10-22T10:58:00.000-04:002011-10-22T10:58:35.362-04:00Gary's New FriendsLast night, Gary and I went out on a double date (we were with each other, in case there was any doubt). We went to dinner and harassed a waitress we know there, then moved on to a haunted house, where Gary encouraged me to go poke and prod an exquisite, 8-foot-tall statue that turned out to be a man in costume, on stilts.
Thanks for the potentially embarrassing moment, Gary! Now I don't Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-43120605028642798642011-10-16T10:24:00.001-04:002011-10-16T10:25:58.830-04:00You Look Like MamaLast night, I watched my Tampa Bay Lightning shuffle around with the Florida Panthers in the slowest, most boring hockey game ever, with my Lightning characteristically taking the losing end. After one of many failed scoring attempts on the part of the Lightning, I made a scowling, angry face and lifted my fist like I was going to pound the arm of the couch.
Instantly, one of the kids said, "Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-87807993053179287352011-10-12T11:23:00.001-04:002011-10-12T19:48:59.804-04:00This Feels Familiar...
I got to watch the Lightning's first game of the official season last week against the Hurricanes. So far it's the only game I've been able to see, which turns out to be rather fortunate and merciful for me.
Their second game? Lost. By four goals, mind you.
Third game? Lost.
They play again tomorrow, and I hope to catch that one. I don't like what I've seen so far, though. Even in the Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-61693963616176544212011-10-10T10:38:00.000-04:002011-10-10T10:38:21.122-04:00Who Needs to Stop the Car?It must be difficult for some people to visualize or imagine what it feels like to be a good parent, sort of like playing fantasy or dress-up without truly grasping the character. Case in point: Ala, the children’s ignoble womb-for-rent, stumbles about wrapped smugly in the costume of a mother, but her every action and every word defies her act.
Ala likes to complain about Gary. She makes a Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-50801022936065578692011-10-03T12:09:00.000-04:002011-10-03T12:09:00.827-04:00ShortzennegerEver since Wolverine, who is 12, discovered about a year ago that he is taller than me, short jokes fly rapidly and plentifully when the kids and Gary are with me. The three younger kids happily set aside the fact that they are still, for now, shorter than me, and they participate as heartily as if they towered over me.
When we got our new mattress, I had no idea it would lend itself to one of Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-70699609639062058102011-09-30T09:34:00.000-04:002011-09-30T09:34:12.702-04:00It's About Time!The very instant the last plant-killing cold night had passed in the spring, Gary and I practically raced to the nearest garden center to get plants for the small flower bed beside our front door. We picked up, inspected, and damn near interviewed flowers and plants, laying them out in arrangements in the cart, swapped and switched, and finally came home with our new babies.
Gary planted them,Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-29538561706635588462011-09-28T11:52:00.002-04:002011-09-28T12:44:21.917-04:00High RoadOver the years of dealing with a hateful and clearly psychotic ex, Gary and I have heard the phrase "take the high road" so many times, I have to roll my eyes and gag when I hear it now. Ultimately, taking the high road when you are dealing with someone who blatantly abuses the children is not terribly difficult. Even if we held puppy-kicking parties and ran over little old ladies in the streetsSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-58126314125701966172011-09-26T10:48:00.000-04:002011-09-26T10:48:11.277-04:00Vacation Over :(Mondays are painful enough on a routine basis; Monday after a week of vacation is downright excruciating. I originally planned on taking a trip with Gary last week, but we ended up enjoying being at home together so much, we just stayed home for the week.
He told me yesterday, "I was afraid we would get on each other's nerves after a while, but I had a blast with you all week."
I laughed Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-86517166522215189212011-09-24T12:29:00.000-04:002011-09-24T12:29:20.501-04:00Furry Temper TantrumOur cat Rosie (part feline, part garbage disposal) likes to sit as close as possible while we are eating, carefully monitoring each bite entering our mouths as if each is one bite closer to certain and painful starvation for him. Yesterday he attentively watched Gary eat a sausage dog, his eyes large and unblinking, on stand-by to eat anything that fell from that plate.
"Sorry, Rosie," Gary Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-71935437105552160772011-09-13T21:07:00.000-04:002011-09-13T21:07:50.553-04:00Home!A year ago, almost to the day, I wrote about my brother (affectionately nicknamed "Butthead" by yours truly) leaving for Afghanistan. He has eaten, slept, breathed, and lived the Army since high school, starting in the ROTC and transforming from a goofy class clown into a serious soldier before our very eyes. Over 20 years later, he has served in Iraq, Afghanistan, and other regions of the worldSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-13300907226995793052011-09-08T16:46:00.000-04:002011-09-08T16:46:24.334-04:00I Have a Dream...I have a dream...I dream of a day that a simple request is actually responded to in a mature, responsible fashion by the psycho ex, without histrionics, defensive psychobabble, dramatics, idiotic argument, or profane misuse of vocabulary words far out of her intellectual repertoire in an attempt to seem much more sagacious than she truly is. I dream of a day that reason, sanity, logic, and senseSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-55186448621232457522011-09-07T15:57:00.000-04:002011-09-07T15:57:09.754-04:00Hockey BlingIt's just around the corner. If you stand silently and close your eyes and don't breathe, you can actually hear the crackling of excitement on the air, the chill of the ice, the anticipation of the first face-off and the opening slap of the puck!
Yes, finally, it's less than a month to hockey season. That puts me in a shopping mood. Since I already have two hockey jerseys, one with my name onSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-14693733733575255352011-09-06T15:30:00.000-04:002011-09-06T15:30:06.794-04:00Do You Love Me?While I was brushing my teeth the other day, a curly blonde head suddenly popped up beside me at the sink. Dove peeked at me in the mirror with big, soulful eyes and asked, "Do you love me?"
"Of course I do."
She smiled again and leaned lovingly closer to me. "Do you like to share with me?"
"Whatever it is you are after, the answer is no," I told her around a mouthful of toothpaste.
Nice Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-10176710175947625232011-08-24T09:23:00.000-04:002011-08-24T09:23:12.333-04:00AnnoyingFlipping through a magazine the other night, I saw the phrase "chock-full of" something or other, and I heaved an impatient sigh, dropped my magazine, and said to Gary, "The word 'chock-full' annoys me."
He nodded and pretended to actually be interested, since he is a rather good sport.
I continued my list of words I find annoying:
1. Pocketbook. Why does this word annoy me? I have no idea.Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-84918535037374111882011-08-09T15:13:00.000-04:002011-08-09T15:13:32.498-04:00Dr. DoveDove strolled into the living room the other night with her toy doctor kit and decided that Sunflower and I appeared gravely ill. I fake-coughed like a pro, and Sunflower followed suit, practically hacking up a lung.
After listening to my heart with her stethoscope and confirming that I do have a "heart beep", Dove handed me the little bottle of pretend medicine and instructed me to take some.Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-24773156603995695272011-08-04T10:06:00.001-04:002011-08-04T10:08:15.759-04:00Just Put It in a PonytailYesterday the kids arrived at home for their summer break week with their daddy. Gary picked them up in Hickville, and he called me on their way home and put me on speaker phone. The kids were so excited and wound up, all I could hear was a lot of laughing, screaming, yelling out to me, and then more laughing. Gary and I joked that we couldn't quite tell if they were excited or not.
Dove Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-20893125740347832692011-08-03T08:55:00.002-04:002011-08-03T12:18:50.398-04:00Whose House?Of all the lies the children are spoon-fed by Ala (their parenting-skills-challenged egg donor), perhaps the oddest-- and most idiotic -- is about where they live.
Yes, Ala is willing to lie about anything, including whose house she lives in. You see, over five years ago, Ala dragged the kids to her parents' house, because where better to mooch and be coddled like a helpless dumbass than with Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-68575455815472647332011-07-26T12:23:00.000-04:002011-07-26T12:23:27.572-04:00BilingualThis past weekend, Dove settled in with her drawing pad and a pencil shaped like a hammer (her favorite one) to bestow upon us some one-of-a-kind artwork. From my own observations, Dove's drawing consists mostly of using the eraser, even when there is nothing yet to erase, but who am I to argue creative genius?
When Dove completed her masterpiece, she proudly held it up for us to see. It closelySmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-13611436569160921042011-07-18T14:38:00.000-04:002011-07-18T14:38:42.336-04:00To-Do ListEven on weekends, I swear by a to-do list. Call me obsessive-compulsive, but I don't feel sane unless everything I need to do is written down, and what is more satisfying than crossing each item off as they are completed?
Yesterday I had several items on my to-do list, and I woke up with the best of intentions. Cleaning, rearranging, filing, you name it, it was going to get done!
Except for aSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-16663718412098551422011-07-11T19:30:00.001-04:002011-07-11T19:30:38.474-04:00A Mother Wouldn't Do ThatA collection of mug shots.
Non-existent parenting skills.
Living with (and mooching off) her enabling parents.
Refusing to accept adult responsibilities.
Non-stop lying.
Tragically misplaced priorities.
Blaming others for her own actions.
Expecting others to bear the brunt of her asinine behavior.
I wish I was describing only Casey Anthony. But unfortunately...and disturbingly...I know Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-83700036500219220252011-07-11T10:00:00.001-04:002011-07-11T15:45:31.900-04:00Tickle WarI'm not sure exactly how it started. I believe it was an innocent, spontaneous tickle of Gary's belly by Bear in the kitchen. The first burst of laughter elicited by this walk-by tickling was simply encouragement to try again, and the tickle attack moved from the kitchen to the living room as Gary backed away from Bear's tickling.
I couldn't resist: I joined in, helping Bear tickle Gary, who Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-47952154342122099202011-07-07T08:41:00.000-04:002011-07-07T08:41:17.172-04:00Incredible Hulk HairWhen a child's hair turns Incredible Hulk green from swimming pool water, it is way past time to kick some basic hygiene and personal care into active mode. Despite the convenience factor, swimming is not...I repeat, NOT...a replacement for routine bathing.
When the kids recently spent a week of their summer break with us, I was puzzled by the brazenly green cast in their hair. What the...? Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-63668757008380060342011-07-05T20:44:00.000-04:002011-07-05T20:44:18.627-04:00Killer Jellyfish, Fat Seagulls, and Baby Sharks Over the holiday weekend, Gary and I packed the sunscreen and a cooler and hit the beach. At first we were like Goldilocks, wandering from spot to spot, dumping our stuff then packing back up because we didn't like something about it, but eventually we found a square of beach that was just right, spread out the blanket, and settled in for the day.
Gary whacked a haphazard fingerful of Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-56147646001252543602011-07-01T12:12:00.000-04:002011-07-01T12:12:29.437-04:00Illegal ActivityThe other day, Gary was waiting for me to wrap up something at work so we could go to lunch together. Entertaining himself in my office, he grabbed my pen and decided to make some edits to the to-do list sitting on my desk.
When I glanced over at him and noticed him scribbling away, I asked, "What are you writing on my list?"
He put the pen down, looked up with big, faux-innocent eyes, and Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-6041515803907419422011-06-27T15:10:00.001-04:002011-06-27T15:10:37.833-04:00Waves, Dolphins, and SandI have spent the last few days in a delicious, relaxed, sun-induced stupor, listening to waves and seagulls and the laughter of the kids. Gary, the kids, and I had a tremendous time. Everything clicked like the stars aligned for a great vacation, and I couldn't have asked for anything more: the weather was perfect, the balcony of our room faced the water, the ocean was right outside our door, Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-52885655063632464122011-06-23T14:01:00.000-04:002011-06-23T14:01:39.435-04:00PromotionAt long last, and certainly hard-earned, I have finally been promoted at work. Now comes the fun part: choosing a "happy promotion" present for myself!
I have been leaning toward a business card case, since I will be getting new cards with my mile-long new title and will probably be handing out a lot more cards soon. I'd like something professional but something that still captures my Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-90144485445287477712011-06-20T15:47:00.000-04:002011-06-20T15:47:47.958-04:00Every TimeEvery time a stranger smiles as they watch you with the kids...
Every time one of the kids falls asleep with their arms wrapped around your neck...
Every time I have to help referee whose turn it is to sit beside you at dinner...
Every time you refuse to let anything matter more than the kids, no matter how far others are willing to sink to provoke you...
Every time you have been attacked but Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-80772057518538399432011-06-07T08:32:00.000-04:002011-06-07T08:32:23.400-04:00CandleLast night Gary and I turned off the TV, stashed our cell phones, and curled up on the bed with a lone candle lighting the room. We joked around and talked about anything that popped into our heads: horror movies, books, the kids, trouble we got into growing up (Gary seems to have way more stories like this than I do, by the way).
I know some people consider a night out, dancing, partying, Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-3471418880695462432011-06-03T10:17:00.000-04:002011-06-03T10:17:07.598-04:00Five YearsThis past weekend, Dove crawled into my lap and curled up like a cat, lifting her head every now and then to kiss my cheek. Moments like that, holding her in my lap or watching her wrestle her father, I feel like she is safe, free to be who she is really is.
When Gary and I saw Dove before her pre-school graduation a few weeks ago, she instantly smiled when she saw her daddy and started headingSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-14452800657123117742011-05-27T08:36:00.000-04:002011-05-27T08:36:45.254-04:00Don't You Remember Me?Last night, Gary and I went to Hickville to watch Bear's class play, a musical about vacation...very timely with school letting out in just a few weeks! When Bear spotted us in the audience, he sprung into look-at-me mode, dramatically adjusting his sunglasses, waving at us with both hands. Just before the play started, Wolverine and Sunflower showed up and sat with us. (And by "sat with us", Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-4714800679448695472011-05-26T08:42:00.000-04:002011-05-26T08:42:56.496-04:00Little MartyWhen the Bruins took the lead in the first period of last night's game against my Lightning, I must confess to copious amounts of frustrated cursing. Luckily the kids weren't home to hear it and learn new words for show-and-tell.
Somewhere around the second period, though, I got the feeling the Lightning weren't quite finished yet. Instead of getting scatter-brained and giving up when they areSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-65822938557347765242011-05-25T09:14:00.003-04:002011-05-25T13:57:04.508-04:00Game 6After plowing through the Penguins and then knocking over the Capitals like a row of flimsy dominoes, the Lightning have hit a more solid opponent in the likes of the Boston Bruins, who have pushed the series to game 6 tonight...and who have the upper hand, leading by one game and fighting for win #4 tonight.
I watched the exciting game last Saturday, when the Lightning made a comeback after Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-53211347975103754172011-05-23T09:44:00.001-04:002011-05-23T11:41:10.245-04:00AmenLast night, Gary and I found ourselves being lectured to by preachers in Hickville. How did we end up in such a fortuitous position? We were there to watch the three oldest kids in their church musical, then to see Dove's pre-school graduation, which was also held in a church (gotta start brainwashing them young so it sticks).
The fact that so much of the kids' activities revolve around Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-14539201795721038062011-05-20T08:46:00.000-04:002011-05-20T08:46:00.451-04:00Small MouthThe other morning, I had the unfathomable joy and delight of a dentist appointment. Every time I am in the dentist's chair, I shudder and envision torture devices and the Saw movies, and I can dimly hear the dentist's barely concealed sadistic laughter as he creeps up behind me.
As I was relaxing with a mouthful of gloved hands, tools, lights, and anything else the dentist could stuff in there Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-78939835359617565102011-05-16T10:47:00.001-04:002011-05-16T10:55:16.879-04:00Maternal InstinctTwo weeks ago, when we dropped the kids off at the police station (since we can't trust others in the kids' lives to even pretend to behave like adults with two brain cells to collectively rub together), Gary and I waved out the car window to the kids as we were leaving the parking lot behind Ala's car. We ended up pulling up beside her car at a red light and turned to wave to the kids again.
Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-29957999494680454122011-05-11T15:57:00.000-04:002011-05-11T15:57:43.781-04:00I Can Live Without...Life would surely be drastically improved, and far more pleasurable, if I never, ever had to endure another:
1. Kesha song
2. brussels sprout
3. traffic jam
4. episode from any show on the Disney Channel
5. picture of any of the Kardashian brood on any magazine cover
6. long red light
7. circuitous and unproductive phone call with Comcast, the featured Internet provider in hell
8. insufferable Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-41244110348921821462011-05-08T10:57:00.001-04:002011-05-08T18:58:00.462-04:00Happy Mother's Day...to All MothersAt the gym, a woman came up to me and told me she saw me, Gary, and the kids riding bikes and walking near the gym the other day. She said she thought all of us together looked so sweet, and she wanted a family like that someday. She is very young, just barely broken into her 20's, and she admitted she is not ready for kids...yet!
When I told her the kids are my stepchildren, she leaped in Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-60327133841348947872011-05-05T14:09:00.000-04:002011-05-05T14:09:26.421-04:00Hell of a ComebackWhen my Lightning won a game against the Pittsburgh Penguins in the first round of Stanley Cup playoffs, I was excited but didn't dare expect much more. The Lightning are notoriously inconsistent. When they defeated Pittsburgh to advance to another round, this time against the Capitals, I was cautiously expectant but didn't want to set myself up for disappointment.
Now that the Lightning have Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-56549375333314946692011-05-02T10:15:00.000-04:002011-05-02T10:15:27.549-04:00Dear Joan Jett...My deepest apologies for the way the kids turned your iconic song "I Love Rock and Roll" into "Put another dime in the juice box, baby!" We mean no disrespect or harm. You must admit it flows kind of nicely, though, eh?
Sincerely,
Smirking Cat and the GangSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-46142750178114678492011-04-27T21:53:00.001-04:002011-04-27T21:53:36.497-04:00Royal PainAm I the only person on this entire planet who doesn`t give a rat`sass about two spoiled English brats getting married this week? Whohas the time to obsess over Kate Middleton`s dress or how she willwear her hair? How does either possibly impact my life? There is adefinite correlation between an utter lack of a life, and fascinationwith celebrities.Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-24551317785330333772011-04-23T11:57:00.000-04:002011-04-23T11:57:56.355-04:00Birthday QueenYou know that ignored, unappreciated feeling you can get with your family, like no one cares and you are taken for granted?
Well, I felt nothing like that yesterday. It was my birthday, and Gary and the kids made sure I felt like royalty. I was escorted to the birthday chair, the head of the dining room table. My personalized version of "happy birthday" was punctuated with impromtu, custom Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-69239516142180140522011-04-21T08:46:00.000-04:002011-04-21T08:46:37.017-04:00Hiding Eggs and Narrowly Missing Time-OutYesterday Gary and I volunteered to help Sunflower's teacher with an Easter egg hunt and class party that was apparently top-secret with access limited to only high-ranking government officials...at least that is the only valid reason I can imagine that Ala (see Cast of Characters) would have chosen to tell Gary nothing about it until he had already heard about it from Sunflower's teacher. But ISmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-86876017034732231962011-04-20T09:17:00.000-04:002011-04-20T09:17:43.262-04:00Ludicrous Speed!Last night, while wrapping up the final touches on our Easter shopping, Gary and I saw a man on a motorcyle in the store parking lot, wearing a helmet at least 20 sizes too big for his head. Gary made a comment about it, and I said, "Lord Helmet!" We burst out laughing and kept quoting Spaceballs:
"WHAT? You went over my helmet?"
While 'combing' the dessert: "We ain't found shit!"
"I Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-22601627884958906672011-04-19T10:54:00.001-04:002011-04-19T10:55:22.804-04:00A Neat Desk
Last week, I was sitting in a currently vacant office at work, updating the computer, when I heard my boss calling out from my office: "Is Smirking Cat here? Did she leave for the day?"
I leaned back in the chair and called out to her that I was in the empty office. She must not have heard me, because I heard her ask again if I had gone somewhere. I was just standing up to go to the door andSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-56250886806283279882011-04-15T09:05:00.000-04:002011-04-15T09:05:16.908-04:00BitchyI am just curious: when you send bitchy emails, do you imagine, in your vacuous skull, and in the midst of your illusions of grandeur, that Gary and I leap to attention, gasp with fright, tremble in anticipation of your wrath, and fall to the floor moaning and clutching at each other in sheer terror, nearly pissing our pants in abject fear?
You may continue to delude yourself with that imagery Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-5868541990261004362011-04-11T10:32:00.000-04:002011-04-11T10:32:05.437-04:00Hobbling to the Garden CenterThis past weekend, I finally heeded the temptation to dig in the dirt, hit the garden center, and do something with the wasteland also known as our front flower beds. On Saturday I dragged the trash can to the front yard, snapped on my gardening gloves, and entered the hazardous waste that had built up in the flower beds. Who knew so many leaves could pile up in such a small space? I Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-38932606166558725792011-04-05T10:56:00.000-04:002011-04-05T10:56:13.462-04:00Four WeeksWhen the kids arrived last Friday, it had been four weeks since they were last with us. It was evident, in many ways, how long it had been since they were home.
The first, and most obvious, was simply that they couldn't get enough of their father. They crawled all over him, demanding attention, hungry for time with him, and competing with each other for his attention. The kids woke up early Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-23722096326385699952011-04-04T11:24:00.001-04:002011-04-05T10:50:24.919-04:00Gangster KenThis past weekend, Gary was presented with a Barbie doll by Sunflower and the irresistable invitation, "Will you play with me, Daddy?" Soon Gary was on the bedroom floor surrounded by Barbie dolls, Barbie clothes, and all four kids, who contributed the random Dora the Explorer, G.I. Joe, or superhero action figures.
Gary's Barbie adopted a Jersey accent, a bad attitude, and a penchant for Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-80548479580772898682011-04-02T08:16:00.000-04:002011-04-02T08:16:40.350-04:00Calling Lord Stanley...No April Fool's trick here: the Tampa Bay Lightning have made it to the Stanley Cup play-offs for the first time in years! Even more delicious, they clinched their spot by defeating the Penguins.
After the last several years of embarrassing performance, I am truly just happy the Lightning haven't sucked as much as they used to and have even made it this far. The Stanley Cup would be great...Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-41436033856585438942011-04-01T10:19:00.001-04:002011-04-01T10:22:59.655-04:00SickoWhen I was little, my three brothers and I had to be literally on our death beds to get a day off school. My mother was a teacher who took her job seriously (both the teacher part and the mother part), and she told us, "Your full-time job is going to school and getting an education."
I don't remember being in the doctor's office for anything but general check-ups, and at most, we took cough Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-91068787899914180862011-03-31T16:08:00.001-04:002011-03-31T16:11:02.382-04:00Texting, Texting, 1, 2, 3...One night, Gary and I treated ourselves to a nice dinner out on the town. We didn't make reservations, but the evening was beautiful, so we didn't mind waiting outside until we could be seated.
Directly across from us, also waiting for a table, was a family with two teenage kids. The entire family had their heads bowed. Praying? Offering the blessing for the meal they were about to enjoy? Lost Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-16747514586791554912011-03-25T10:05:00.002-04:002011-03-25T10:13:42.699-04:00Home InvasionWhen I got home the other day, the rug that is normally by the front door was tousled, upside down, crumpled up in the middle of the living room. The curtains were swung out and flayed haphazardly across the cushions of the sofa. Cat toys peppered the floor from the kitchen to the hallway.What could possibly have happened here? An intruder? A home invasion? A wayward criminal? A tussle? No.Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-47627543934980121012011-03-18T10:41:00.003-04:002011-03-18T11:16:31.611-04:00Science Fair and Dog ShitYesterday evening, Bear's school held a science fair. When Bear saw Gary and me, he walked up to us brandishing treasures from his pockets: two toy cars, which he proceeded to drive all over Gary's arms, chest, and legs. When I became the imaginary driver of one of these cars, it ran off the road amidst wild shrieks and much exaggerated simulation of losing control of the wheel. Have I Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-77332032943361355562011-03-11T15:55:00.005-05:002011-03-11T16:13:16.643-05:00Wedding DressLast night, I dreamed about Gary's and my wedding day. Our friends were there, the kids were there, the day was beautiful, everyone was relaxed, smiling, and happy...only one thing was missing."Uh-oh," I suddenly said.I had forgotten my wedding dress! I hunted down my keys to run back home and get it.When I woke up and told Gary about the dream, his first question was, "Were you naked?"Mental Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-30853915926943970182011-03-09T08:55:00.003-05:002011-03-09T09:01:27.588-05:00DorkDoes it reveal terribly much of my inner dork if I literally clapped my hands with glee when I discovered that Neil Diamond's "Play Me" is available to download as a ringtone for my nifty new phone?Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-36481807120556103782011-03-08T15:31:00.004-05:002011-03-08T15:42:52.878-05:00MiracleIt's a miracle! By the grace and glory of higher powers, by the wonders and marvels of modern science, our bike-wrecking child who hobbled feebly into an emergency room yesterday morning, blind and almost paralyzed, perched at death's door, is back in school today, just fine.It couldn't have been that she was swayed into exaggerating and fabricating symptoms to feed the histrionics of a mentallySmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-63364313665834530732011-03-07T11:46:00.005-05:002011-03-07T14:16:03.038-05:00Munchausen Much?What would any caring, concerned parent do when a young child falls off of her bike and sustains injuries in the wreck?(a) Realistically evaluate the child's injuries.(b) Be thankful the other parent thoroughly checked out the child's injuries, kept her calm, and doctored the scratches so well that the child was laughing and playing not long after the bike accident.(c) Keep the focus on the childSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-62407794470838590262011-02-28T10:22:00.003-05:002011-02-28T10:28:54.602-05:00SingingAs a certified crazy cat person, I freely admit to singing to my cats, making up what I consider clever and catchy tunes to soothe their spoiled ears. The other day I launched into a little ditty, serenading Rosie and Sylvester, who were sprawled lazily on the living room floor.As soon as I started singing, both Rosie and Sylvester leapt to their feet simultaneously, went straight to the front Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-3718679281342828352011-02-23T10:32:00.003-05:002011-02-23T10:49:30.653-05:00SnogglingWrapped up tight in each other's arms the other night, Gary said to me, "I like snoggling with you."I laughed so hard I almost fell out of bed. Snoggling?! For all the teasing he gives me for slip-ups like Frodo/Fredo while watching The Godfather, I pounced on the opportunity to fire back a bit."Snoggling? We're snoggling? How exactly is that different from snuggling?"The funniest part is, Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-5589869530099680112011-02-22T09:19:00.004-05:002011-02-22T09:37:04.688-05:00BlissWhat bliss...what sheer, ignorant bliss...it must be to see the children's tears, the children's pain, and feel only irritation at how their agony is not convenient to you.Then again...to feel that way would make me an insufferable asshole, and it appears the children already have an immense one of those in their lives already.Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-83957207074097775212011-02-17T11:00:00.001-05:002011-02-17T11:18:48.812-05:00Definitely Not Their Mother"You're not their mother!"I find myself thinking about what the word "Mother" has come to mean for the kids, anyway. When a mother is caring, loving, protective, and sincere, the word "Mother" is a tender, beautiful word. But mothers have not always just stepped out of a Hallmark greeting card. Some mothers, truthfully, sadly, are a disgrace to the term.If a mother lies to her children as Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-76271673772999571492011-02-15T11:19:00.003-05:002011-02-15T11:56:36.742-05:00Advice for Women *yawn*I flipped through a current issue of Working Mother magazine over the weekend, and as expected, I found the obligatory article addressing how to get your man to share in housework and caring for your children. These articles are always written in a hyper-upbeat, borderline condescending tone, and they are based on two premises: (1) women are too passive, meek, and people-pleasing to simply tell Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-55196446158245125182011-02-14T08:47:00.004-05:002011-02-14T09:11:05.982-05:00The GodhobbitWhile enjoying the greatest movie of all time this past weekend, The Godfather, I slipped up and referred to Fredo as "Frodo" instead. Gary nearly choked on laughter and couldn't get the jokes out of his system fast enough. I had to listen to dramatic exclamations of the Godhobbits, the Fellowship of the Corleones, and other witty gems, but just as he got on a roll, the stitches in his side andSmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-75049672599155506622011-02-13T17:50:00.003-05:002011-02-13T17:59:46.615-05:00Dirt ZombieToday brought us one of the first nice, sunny, beautiful days in a while, and as soon as I stepped outside, I was irresistably drawn to start digging in the long-neglected flower bed at our front door. I love plants, gardening, and essentially playing in the dirt, and I have been dying to loiter at garden centers, blow my budget on plants, and turn a rectangle of lifeless dirt back into a Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-84174011427256192462011-02-10T12:17:00.003-05:002011-02-10T15:52:17.595-05:00Emergency RoomOne thing Gary is not, is a whiner. So when he called me at work the other afternoon to let me know the pain in his abdomen had gotten worse, I knew I had to get home. Fast.What we thought at first may be just a bad stomach bug had escalated to something much worse. Our wait-and-see attitude had certainly not paid off. (Does it ever?) Gary was in so much pain he could barely walk, and just Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-18100943900399878382011-02-07T11:00:00.001-05:002011-02-07T11:11:14.023-05:00What Does It Feel Like?There are many things I have observed over the past several years that leave me incredulously wondering. I honestly don't understand and can't grasp wanting to live life the way some people do.What does it feel like to voluntarily mooch from your parents at the ripe old age of 40? I fiercely value my independence. I pay my own bills, buy my own clothes, and take care of myself. There is nothing Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-83236014764542172632011-02-04T14:20:00.001-05:002011-02-04T14:26:51.300-05:00Lightning on Top (of Detroit!)After watching the Lightning lose miserably one too many times (and trust me, my tolerance for watching them lose has developed painfully high threshholds over time), I finally gave up and haven't even checked their standings in quite a while. This explains why you have been spared from my endless hockey talk and Lightning posts.Gary mentioned to me yesterday that he thought they were ranked Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-77918911591839876992011-02-04T10:53:00.004-05:002011-02-04T11:05:19.845-05:00Bed HogWhen I attempted to climb into my side of the bed last night, Gary's cat Rosie had other plans for me. Rosie stretched out languidly on my side of the bed, sideways to take up as room as possible, and smirked at me from his leisurely position as if to say, "Lady, there's always the couch. Or that cat bed on the floor."Hmmmph. I asked him nicely once to move. He held his ground.For his part, Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-62334788146856652252011-01-27T09:56:00.005-05:002011-01-27T10:05:33.797-05:00Little MommyMy cat Sylvester has a personality only a mother or a crazy cat lady could love. He is at times a wild kitten with gigantic eyes, chasing invisible items in the air and racing around the house at 100 miles an hour; at times a clingy, purring fool dying for a belly-rub fix; and at times just simply a fool, deliberately getting under our feet, plopping down in doorways where he is most in the waySmirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-33222836679250679342011-01-26T10:46:00.005-05:002011-01-26T14:54:44.792-05:00The Old CouchAfter many delays, our new sofa was finally delivered yesterday! I was excited to sit on it, test it out in all its new-ness glory, and stand back and admire it.We have needed a new sofa for a loooooong time. The old one has no springs left, no cushion, and it's like sitting directly on the frame. As soon as you sit down, the couch starts to devour you, pulling you deeper and deeper into its Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-14795231119475640612011-01-24T14:23:00.007-05:002011-01-24T15:16:46.795-05:00Police LightsAfter a weekend that flew by at ludicrous speed (a Spaceballs reference, in case your movie tastes do not lean toward the ridiculous), Gary and I dropped the kids off at the Hickville jail, the quaint and oh-so-child-friendly meeting place the court decided upon when Gary's ex and her father thought it would be a stellar idea to behave like trailer park lunatics in front of the kids during Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-478657734563318036.post-34955333234642666552011-01-19T10:01:00.003-05:002011-01-19T10:32:29.021-05:00Toddlers, Tiaras, and TyrannyThe closest I have ever come to piddling away time watching a waste-of-airwaves show like Toddlers and Tiaras is catching snippets of it when it is made fun of by other shows. There is nothing cute, sweet, funny, or even the least bit sane about parading about young children decked out in heavy hooker make-up and ridiculous, outlandish outfits and fussy helmet hair. It reeks of a pedophile's Smirking Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15337751877658931171noreply@blogger.com7