25 things you didn’’t know about my cat

1.  His favorite toy is socks.  The littler the better.  Every morning when I wake up there are about 20 socks all over the house that I pick up and put away.

2.  Coincidentally (or not), he has 4 white paws.

3.  He’s always dressed for prom, as he is a tuxedo cat.

4.  He loves the smell of chlorine.  When we come back from the pool he rolls around on and licks all our towels and clothes.

5.  He loves to groom Kevin and spends a good chunk of each night licking Kevin’s head.

6.  We got Clyde when he was 4 years old.  His other family didn’t want him because he peed all over their house.

7.  Clyde sometimes pees all over our house.

8.  Clyde is afraid of all kids everywhere and spends 95% of his waking time under our bed, like this:

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9.  When we first got Clyde, he ran straight into the room under our stairs and didn’t come out for 3 whole days.  That’s when we dubbed it the “Panic Room.”

10.  He weighs 13 pounds.  It’s all muscle.

11.  The vet doesn’t think that’s funny.

12.  Some people call him Cross-Eyed Clyde but I swear he’s not.

13.  I don’t think that’s funny.

14. He licks his butt a good deal more than I feel is appropriate…but I think you already knew that.

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15.  Actually, there is one thing he likes about kids: he loves the sound of a crying baby, and he camps out by the crib when Rocco is really wailing.

16.  The first week we got Clyde we let him spend some time on our second story deck.  I *think* he got locked out there at night.  He jumped off the deck and we found him hiding under my car in the driveway, as there was no bed in the driveway.

17.  He can perform Lasik surgery using his own eyes.  (Or: Turns out some of the Chinese-produced cat food we’ve been feeding him has been recalled…)

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#s 18 through 24 all involve various things Clyde has sat on/under/in.  I will show them pictorially.

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25.  Something ain’t right about that cat.

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Omelet-wrapped quesadillas stuffed with roasted potatoes and corn (wish me luck!)
Cheesy polenta

Pictures with funny captions

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I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of Boobies…

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They can take my arms but they can’t take my mouth away.  (They can’t take my mouth away, can they?)

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Hey look, a camera!

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Hey look, a camera!

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Hey look, a camera!

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What?  What’d I do?  Why you so far away?

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Purrrrrrrrr.

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People, he did not learn this kind of stuff from me.  Aunt Jnet, was it you?  Grammy?

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Dijon breaded salmon
Cheesy polenta
Brownie sundaes

Viewer discretion advised

 

I’ve been trying to get a picture of Rocco touching playing with his toes lately.  I don’t feel I’ve taken “the” picture yet (partly because of the giraffe, camel, and monkeys in my room that end up in half my pictures), but I do feel like my kid has a serious case of the cuties.  We should get that looked at. 

Caution: nudity follows.

 

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BTW, that’s Kevin’s side of the bed he’s rubbing his junk all over.

WHAT’S COOKIN ‘2NITE:
Going out!

For goodness’ sakes!

At the store the other day Vincenzo was lingering a little too long in the candy aisle so I said, “Enough lollygagging; let’s get going.”  A lady who could have been my grandma said, “’Lollygagging,’ now there’s a word you don’t hear much these days!”  That’s right; I’m now sounding old even to old people.  My mommification is complete. 

If I slice my finger when I’m cooking, I say cheerfully, “Oh shoot.”  If someone cuts me off in traffic then it’s, “Well that was silly!”  I’ve even caught myself tut-tutting when we go to the basement and see that Kevin and his “band” forgot to clean up their 82 beer cans the night before.

My day is rife with oh my goshes and holy cows and CHITTY CHITTY BANG BANG (but only if it really hurts).  It just makes me want to say, “Darn it anyway!  Isn’t there a gol-darn place a mom can go to say what’s really on her mind?

Aw what do you care.  You’re all just a bunch of ass-munches anyway.

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Maybe eggplant parmesan.
Maybe not.

P.S. I found someone who’s okay with the high chair being in the house.

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(He actually takes his meals in it now.)

Of creamed carrots and armpit farts

There is a high chair in my kitchen now.  It feels like finding your 7-year-old wearing heels and lipstick and smoking a cigarette.  How can Rocco be eating solids already?  How can he cheat on me like that?!  This is the very beginning of weaning my baby, and it’s a hard transition for me.  In a matter of weeks I will no longer be the only nourishment my baby needs. 

What’s worse about this whole “starting solids” thing is that I’m the one holding the spoon up to Rocco’s mouth and making goofy faces to get him to open up.  It’s not like he’s pushing me away; it’s like I’m pushing him away.  I’m telling Rocco with every spoonful I offer that he doesn’t need me as much as he used to.  Starting today and for every day after this he will eat just one baby spoonful of independence until one day he moves out or falls in love and then the weaning is truly complete.  (Alternately: we redo the basement and start charging him rent.)

When I rock Rocco to sleep now he has some real weight to him.  His whole self used to not even reach across my stomach, and now he’s too big to lie sideways on the rocking chair without bending his legs.  When I pick him up his body doesn’t melt into mine.  His head pushes away and swivels around to answer the question, “What else?”  There used to not be anything else.  Just me. 

I really am excited though.  I’m excited to meet this easy-going, toy-loving, giggling narcoleptic that is our son and to see what form his sense of humor takes under mine and Kevin’s careful tutelage (although Vincenzo will likely have a stronger influence).  I get so excited with every milestone Rocco reaches that it eases the pain of knowing that he’s a little farther away from the warm, helpless, red-faced newborn who took his first breaths on my own chest and who knew like I did that only one person’s love was all that mattered then and forever.  “Forever,” I realize, doesn’t last.  Rocco will eventually learn that too much love can smother a person and that sometimes even though you are loved with every piece of a person’s heart there will be days you feel lonely.

But I was talking about being excited.  I am.  I am!!!  I am excited to see our walls and photo albums fill up with the funny and the sweet.  I’m excited for the first time he says “mama” and he means me, but he also means the deepest kind of comfort that exists on this planet.  I’m excited for his first steps and all the steps after those that will take him any direction he looks.  I’m excited for the first time he hugs me back and the first time he makes his brother laugh on purpose.  I’m excited to see if he chooses cheetah print or zebra for his first cape.  I’m excited for his first armpit fart. 

Once I had a baby who didn’t grow, whose fingers are frozen in time as impossibly tiny miracles resting on my finger, whose only milestone we can record was the act of being born.  His name was Angelo.  And while he was a beautiful, beautiful gift, he was a gift we would like to receive just once.

I want to hang on to today more than ever.  I spend my life reminiscing about the past and terrified of the future but for this sweet, short time when I have my own baby to hold.  For this sweet short time I get to live in today.  “The reason they call today ‘the present’ is because it is a gift.”*

So BRING IT, strained peas with creamed carrots.  BRING it.

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Pear and Tillamook cheese soup
Homemade bread
Beans and bacon in cider vinaigrette

*Embarrassingly, it’s a quote from “Kung Fu Panda.”