Last call!

Here we are, late in the evening of the last night of my thirties.  When I wake up (hopefully not before 6am like I have the past several days), I'll be 40.  Egads.  I wish I could come up with something pithy or reflective or remotely meaningful to share.  I mean, I spent a bit of time reflecting on the past decade as I went about my errands and housework today.  There certainly were some big highlights - becoming a mom; becoming an aunt (several times over); milestone wedding anniversaries (10th and 15th); the passing of my last remaining living grandparent; selling our first house, buying our second and moving; rejoining the workforce after spending most of the decade as a stay-at-home mom; heck, even being on Jeopardy - but right now?  There's just one thing that is on my mind, and it is this:


I am fairly certain that we have a yeti living in our basement.  I have proof.  Proof in the vast expanses of greyish fur that amass in the collection canister of my vacuum cleaner every time I use it, like earlier this afternoon.  I mean, it just seems obvious that such insane amounts of what is clearly animal fur would come from a gigantic, highly hirsute source like this:

than from something that's smaller than a breadbox (though admittedly pretty fuzzy) like this:

Yep, that's all I've got for this evening, my yeti-in-the-cellar theory.  Clearly, old age has already begun fading away what few brain cells I have left.  (Also, it's 10pm and I spiked my milk with mudslide mix at dinner, so there's that.  Living la vida loca, for sure.)  Before I toddle off to bed, I'd like to make one last plea:


Won't you please, pretty please, with sugar and sprinkles and a cherry on top, please help me make my fortieth birthday wish come true?  You can read about it here.  (I know I've been asking with every post lately, but the good news is that tomorrow is the last day I can bug you about it...)  If you would please join me in doing 40 Good Things and leave me a comment letting me know what you did, I'll be the happiest 40 year old birthday girl ever tomorrow!  Thanks!

Now *this* is the life...

That?  Right there?  The picture of contentment and the warmest, toastiest bit of belly fuzz you've ever scritched.  Crazy Cat doesn't usually allow the belly of the beast to be exposed in such a manner, but she just could. not. resist! the magnetic pull of the afternoon sun.  (Outside, it may only have been 49 degrees F but on her pillow with the sun beaming in, it was positively equatorial.)  Note to self: if ever I take another spin on this globe, make sure I come back as a thoroughly spoiled house cat.


(Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to our Crazy Cat, who turns 9 years old tomorrow!)

How to age with dignity...

I believe that the older one gets, the more dignified one must be.  I mean, clearly one should aspire to be more like this:

than this (You really need to only watch the first 24 seconds of the following clip to get what I'm talking about...):

Now as it just so happens, we are currently wrapping up Heather's Birthdayweek*.  Yes, last Tuesday, I officially entered the End of My Late Thirties by turning 39.  Clearly, I needed to muster up all the dignity I could, now that my age has inexorably advanced another year.  Fortunately, my family was ready and willing to pitch in and aid me in my quest to age with dignity.

First, I received a lovely, talking/musical birthday card specially selected for me by my darling daughter.......

(It talks - in Wookiee - and then plays the Star Wars theme. Très raffiné, non?)

Then, when opening my birthday present from Kiddo and Hubby with suitable decorum, I sliced a small chunk out of my thumb on the corner of the box.  (Us elderly folk have thinner skin, you know.  We're quite delicate.  It wasn't that I was shrieking with glee as I tore into the packaging of my present, I swear.  That would not have been dignified in the least.)  Kiddo came to my rescue by providing this first aid:

(Confession: The above photo was a Dramatic Reenactment, as I've since recovered from my injury and am no longer in need of a stylish and dignified bandage for my thumb.)

I'm fairly certain I saw a similar bandage on the Queen of England's thumb in a photo a few months back...

Oh, and the present I got for my birthday?  Rock Band 3 - with keytar.

(Hubby, while taking the above picture: "You're not really going to take a picture to post on the internet of you in your jammies, are you?"  Me: "Of course I am!"  Cinéma vérité - doesn't get any more dignified than that!  Okay, maybe I should've opted for some soft focus vaseline-on-the-lens....  Also?  That was my attempt to look both dignified and rock-n-roll! simultaneously.)

Now, I've been playing the piano since I was four years old.  Four years old.  That means that as of last Tuesday, when I hit my late thirties (okay, fine, my late-late thirties), I've been playing the piano for thirty-five years.  I can read music.  I can sightread music, even.  I was sure I'd have the keytar locked down, is what I'm saying.  Turns out? Not so much.  I was only slightly more accurate playing the keytar parts than my cat would be.  (Speaking of the cat........

.....she enjoys Cheesy Eddie's carrot birthday cake with cream cheese frosting as much as the rest of the family.  But I digress...)

So, I tried to maintain my dignity whilst playing my new Rock Band 3 keytar, but I may have slipped with a colorful phrase or twelve while failing repeatedly to play the dang notes.  That is neither here nor there, however.

For dinner, I chose to go to a local Japanese restaurant for some teppanyaki deliciousness.  

True, the restaurant now occupies a building that was formerly a Hooters, then a Cheerleaders USA establishment, but it has been completely redone and reeks of classiness and elegance.  They don't even serve any drinks inside giant Buddha statues, for Pete's sake.  Being a teppanyaki style restaurant, the chef comes out and cooks the food right in front of you.  This enables the patrons to take part in the preparation of the meal, mainly by means of catching rice balls in their mouths which are flung at them by the chef.

Now some people

may not look terribly dignified while doing this...

(see how Hubby is gloating?  He was the only one at our table to succeed in actually catching the rice ball, rather than getting plonked in the face with a rice ball.)

Whereas I?

Dignified all the way, baby.  Jackie O couldn't have done it better.

Once we got home from our dinner (we were the only diners in the teppanyaki section, what with the major snow event occurring outside ((that I preferred to think of as "Mother Nature throwing confetti in honor of my big day")) and all), Hubby and Kiddo presented me with my Cheesy Eddie's carrot birthday cake, politely lit with just 4 candles instead of ablaze with 39.  (We more senior types can be lacking in proper lung capacity to blow out such a blaze, after all.)

This is how you blow out birthday candles with dignity:

I hope that you have learned a little something about growing old with grace and aging with dignity.  You're welcome.

* I long ago decided that an event as momentous as my birthday couldn't truly be contained in just one day.  Hence, Heather's BirthWEEK.  I celebrate it as often and heartily as possible.  In the past seven days, I have had three birthday lunches, one birthday brunch, one birthday coffee and two birthday dinners (well, one was a combo birthday-Christmas dinner, but such is the lot of the mid-late December baby).  Also, my Facebook wall was flooded with birthday wishes, which I adored receiving.  Seriously, I felt all Sally Field - "You like me! Right now, you like me!"   It just added to the awesomeness of my day.  Then even more messages came in over the course of the rest of my birthweek, which I'd gladly stretch out right up until Christmas, but remaining dignified really doesn't permit me to do.  Until next year...  My sincerest, most heartfelt thanks to all my family and friends who helped me celebrate this year.  You're all fantabulous!!!

Lost, Shmost, it's Sweeps Week on Cat TV, too, you know...

Yes, Spring means "sweeps week" for our local Cat TV stations (aka windows on the lower levels of the house).  Besides the regularly scheduled programming of Birdies, Squirrels and Chipmunks, we also get the big guns - BUNNIES!!

Though, all the hours of sweeps week excitement do tend to tire a kitteh right out............

Wordless Wednesday: It's tough being a cat...

Not Really Even Mostly Wordless Wednesday: Whatever you've got on tap...

Our crazy cat has a drinking problem. Her problem, specifically, is that she won't drink just any old water. She prefers to drink from a running source. Now, this was kind of cute at first, the way the tiny kitten would jump into the bowl of the sink when the water was on, but we still tried encouraging her to drink out of a plain, old water bowl just like every other housecat in the world since practically the beginning of time. She clung fast to her peculiarity, stubborn as she is, to the point of constipating and dehydrating herself. Seriously. Following the vet visit during which we learned that no, apparently she wouldn't just drink from her bowl when she got good and thirsty enough, we trotted ourselves over to the pet store and acquired one of those fancy-shmancy, "water fountain" style water bowl gizmos, complete with carbon filter for the purest possible water. The whole set up, plus the ongoing cost of the replacement filters, was not cheap. Hubby grumbled a good deal about it, but we didn't want Crazy Cat getting sick from lack of water.

Well, Crazy Cat didn't like it any more than the non-fountain variety bowl. Nope, apparently *running* water wasn't enough for her, it has to be running water from a tap somewhere in the house. In our old house, we left the sink in the vanity area of the master bedroom on a slow drip. (Sorry, environment and yes, it did affect the water bill, but we didn't want the cat to dehydrate and get sick.) In the new house, I'm happy to say, we've worked out a slightly different system. We don't leave any faucet running 24-7 like we did in the old house. (Yay environment and yay lower water bills!) Instead, when the cat wants a drink of water, she asks for one and we turn on the tap. Her favorite tap in the new house is the laundry room's utility sink.





She'll hop up onto the edge of the sink or the washing machine and meow quite dramatically until one of us responds and turns the tap on for her.





You can't just turn it on, mind you, it has to be done to just the right amount of water pressure. It is a delicate art.




Crazy Cat now will come and get me wherever I may be in the house and lead me down to the laundry room to turn the water on so she can drink, meowing with great purpose the entire time.





Yeah, she's got us right where she wants us. Let's hope she doesn't develop a taste for Evian or mineral water...............

Phriday Photo Phiesta: Doggone it!

This is Teddy. Teddy is an 18 month old Cockapoo. Kiddo's honorary grandparents adopted him about a month ago. Kiddo's grandpa had to go to the hospital unexpectedly earlier this week for emergency spinal surgery. (He's doing very well and is expected to go home this weekend.) So, Teddy came to stay with us on Tuesday night for a few days.



Teddy loves his squeaky alligator toy. Kiddo picked it out for him as a present and gave it to him that first weekend he came home from the animal shelter.



Did I mention the alligator squeaks? It has two different squeakers inside. One is loud and sustained, the other louder and sustained-er.



He also loves his toy Kong. It doesn't squeak, but it is irregularly shaped (kinda like me) and heavy (ditto) and bounces unpredictably when it lands (ditto again), so not the best toy for playing Fetch in the house.



He loves to play Fetch. Especially with the squeaky alligator.







Kiddo loves Teddy and thinks dogsitting is a fantabulous thing. Hubby loves the dog and has taken him running in the evenings after dinner. I love him because he makes me get out of the house and exercise, and because I look less crazy when I'm walking around and talking aloud since when he's there, I'm not talking to myself, I'm talking to the dog.



The crazy cat is the one member of the family who is not so fond of the dog. She's decided that avoidance is the best policy, along with sitting just out of reach and glaring a lot, plus major hissing whenever he gets too close. She's not peeing on anything other than her kitty litter yet, though, so that seems to be a good sign. (*knock wood*)

Teddy is not crazy. He's mellow, well behaved, doesn't bite or chew on things, doesn't bark much (except at the cat), doesn't seem to shed and is crate trained. He loves to just be where the people are. Even, it turns out, when where the people are is in the shower.

*


Being as near-sighted as I am, at first I thought I'd missed a spot while shaving near my ankles. Whew, close one.



I haven't been to the gym much this week, but I have been going for 2 or 3 long walks each day, along with lots of hurry up and pee so we can go back inside because it's dark and cold and drizzling and I'm freezing, shorter walks.



When we get a dog of our own (and that seems a foregone conclusion), it will be *after* we fence the back yard in so that doggy business can be conducted without the need for hurry up and pee so we can go back inside because it's dark and cold and drizzling and I'm freezing walks in the early mornings or later evenings. Also so Kiddo can play Fetch outdoors with the dog without worry of him spotting a squirrel and taking off for Parts Unknown.



Speaking of Fetch - gotta get back to it. For more Phriday Photo Phiesta Phun, be sure to drop by Candid Carrie's!


* About the shower: yes, I know it is hideous and horrible. The pink tile - ugh. The grey and pink tile floor - double ugh. The stained, grotty grout - quintuple ugh. Kindly just notice the cute dog and not the rest of it, mmmkay? Thanks.

We interrupt your regular weekend programming...

... to bring you this Extra Special Bout of Germies! Kiddo woke up an hour after bedtime last night and came back downstairs complaining of a sore throat. I dutifully checked the scene out with assistance of a flashlight and it didn't look remarkably red, bumpy, patchy, blotchy, swollen or any of those other things that one doesn't want to see when peering down one's child's esophagus. I gave her a dose of ibuprofen anyhow, as she was quite insistent that it was hurting, and waited out the night to see what morning would bring.

And morning brought it BIG, y'all. A crying kid who stumbled to the bathroom, clutching at her stomach and saying that her "throat hurt so much" that she "couldn't swallow her slobber" (eloquent, eh?) and then promptly vomited and who was sporting a forehead hot enough to fry eggs upon. A quick check of her temperature verified the egg-frying abilities of her skin, as she had a fever of 102.9. Given that she's not quite proficient in oral thermometer techniques (and that she was afraid she was going to vomit again), I was using that more as a rough estimate of her fever and guessing the actuality might've been a bit further up the scale.

Hubby prepared a "barf bucket" (we're full of the elegance 'round the Smith house) and got Kiddo settled in on the couch while I called the pediatrician. Shortly thereafter, Kiddo and I were on our way to the doctor's office to meet the on-call doc. There was one other sick kid there ahead of us, so Kiddo had to nervously clutch her barf bucket and leopard in the waiting room for a bit, then it was our turn. One rapid strep test later it was confirmed: Kiddo has a raging case of strep throat. She wound up vomiting in the exam room for good measure, and he wrote us out a prescription and sent us on our way.

Kiddo rallied briefly, playing Lego Indiana Jones on the Wii with her dad (his reward to her for cooperating at the doctor with the whole "jab the extra-long q-tip down your throat for the strep test" bit) but then she began to fade. She then spent the majority of the afternoon like this:



I woke her up around 4:00 to check her temperature. Even with a dose of ibuprofen (and antibiotic) coursing through her veins, her fever was up to 103.6. Again, with the oral thermometer, so it is quite possibly higher than that. So, now we're doubling up, doing acetaminophen in between the ibuprofen to try and bring the fever down.

The saddest part to me was how Kiddo was really, really upset that she won't be able to go to school tomorrow. She was cheered by the news that if she has no fever tomorrow, she'll be able to go back to school on Tuesday. (Though that sky-high temperature she's presently heating the house with doesn't bode well for tomorrow being fever-free...) She actually cried this morning at the thought of not going to school tomorrow. I wept a small tear myself at the notion that after only 4 days of school this year, her chance for the Perfect Attendance award is shot for another year. Who are those kids that have perfect attendance? Not elementary school kids, I'm guessing....

My biggest concern is that the last time she had strep, it developed into pneumonia. I don't want that happening again. Here's hoping the antibiotic (a new one to us - Cefdinir, which sound for all the world to me like a character in the Lord of the Rings movies) works well and she is much improved by tomorrow morning... Oh, and the icing on the cake of the Super Sick Kid Sunday? The cat wanted in on the barfing action and proceeded to gack up hairballs and cat food (too hastily gulped down, methinks) in three separate places on the kitchen floor. I tell ya, if Hubby barfs, he's on his own.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

All my bags are (mostly) packed,
I'm (almost) ready to go,
The housesitters arrived
and the cat ran to hide
Already I'm counting the minutes 'til we say goodbye...

My husband's ready, soon he'll be blowing the horn
with the minivan loaded up to head out later this morn
Kiddo will be buckled in with a chosen few of her "guys"

Let's hope that the plane is not delayed
And that Bill and other hurricanes stay away
the Orlando heat and humidity are enough - we're gonna fry

'Cause we're leaving on a jet plane
Ten days 'til we'll be back again
Oh yeah, to Disney World we will fly.......

Leaving on a jet plane
Ten days 'til we'll be back again
Ten days 'til the reunion of the internet and I.........

***

Which is to say, today's the day! We leave in a few hours for the airport. Housesitters in place, house all cleaned, kitty litter and fish tank water as fresh as they're gonna be, all crops harvested over at my plot in Farm Town and from my own back yard (where the sum total of the harvest thus far has been two pitiful tomatoes), copious amounts of SPF 70 packed in our suitcases and two cans of Mountain Dew Voltage coursing through my veins. Hubby and I didn't sleep well last night, though Kiddo was out like a light and even slept in past 7 this morning. I'm pretty sure I haven't forgotten anything, packing-wise, which invariably means I *have* forgotten something, but that should be no big whoop, as we have a rental car waiting for us in Orlando and therefore can race out to the store for whatever I have managed to leave behind. (Kiddo and I are both really, really hoping that we get a convertible. Hubby's rooting for the eminently more practical minivan. We'll have to see what is sitting in the lot when we arrive!)

As I mentioned in my previous post, Hubby helped me set up my ancient mobile phone so I can tweet and update my Facebook status from Florida - even (supposedly) post pictures while we're there. The bad news (for me, at least) is that I will not have regular internet access for the next 10 days (and yes, I'm twitching at that thought) since we're not paying the ridiculous internet fee and Disney hotels don't come with free wifi. (Humph!)

Now, I just have to remember that when Kiddo asks to go on the Spinning Teacups a second time *in a row* like last year.....



that it is *not* a good idea unless I want to walk around the Magic Kingdom feeling like I'm going to hurl for the rest of the day....... (that picture, by the by, I took of myself last year. The "hand on head" pose was purely functional - had to hold my sunglasses on as Kiddo and Hubby cranked the wheel on our teacup for all they were worth. It was about 9am and already a thousand percent humidity and at least a thousand degrees.)

Not sure if I'll be able to post between now and our return, but I'll definitely tweet ya while we're gone!

Firsts.......

Well, the first week in the new house has passed now. Here's a recap of some of the firsts we've had during the first week in our new home!

Kiddo's first chore in the new house: picking up sticks in the front and back yards so I could mow the jungle that was our lawn. She did a surprisingly great job!




The first time the living room and dining room (pictured below) hardwood floors saw daylight in 44 years, following the removal of that heinous, mauve carpet you can still see on the stairs...



First Sunday Night Nachos (a Mr. & Mrs. Smith weekly tradition) in the new house. The first actual meal I cooked on the stove was macaroni and cheese for Kiddo, not counting reheating pizza and other meals sent over by lovely friends. Haaaate the new stove/oven, and the range hood fan is horrendous - though I did almost convince Kiddo the "fan" is actually a hive of bees sucking air up through straws because the noise is that loud and buzzy - but they work well enough so we're living with them for now - we'll see what we do about appliances when we get to the Great Kitchen Renovation this fall.



First exploration of the new neighborhood! Kiddo had a half day on Monday, so she and I went scootering and walking around the nabe, meeting several lovely neighbors (though alas, none were the Jackman family like the dream I had a few weeks ago) in the process.



(To get back to our house, in case we were at all uncertain where home was, we just had to find the pile o' ugly carpeting and padding that was awaiting collection by the garbage man. The morning they picked it up and carted it off was a great joy to us, but caused great dismay to the chipmunks who were merrily setting up a home inside some of the rolls...

)

The first time Kiddo wore this new outfit, because we had a few days of crazy hot temperatures, like midsummer in mid-spring! Kiddo is doing her big, jazz hands finish here to a song she was singing ("No One Loves You Any Better Than Your M-O-double M-Y" as recorded by John Lithgow). Now, I had asked her to stop on our way out the door that morning to drive to school and give me a smile so I could capture her cuteness. Being my daughter, she can't content herself with a quick smile for the camera, and instead must launch into a full-on song-n-dance routine.



The first grilled dinner, done for the first time on the new grill (our old one, which was little more than rust molecules held together by a thin residue of Delicious Meals Past, died when Hubby tried cooking on it last weekend). This was followed by the first eating on the back patio, which was lovely despite a few bothersome moments due to bite-y gnats and no-see-'ums. Once the boxes have moved off the lanai and the lanai furniture arrives (we're getting my late grandparents' set that my parents have in storage at the farm), we will be able to dine alfresco but not be bugged by bugs, which will be delightful. For now, the lanai is primarily enjoyed by the boxes and Crazy Cat goes crazy watching all the wildlife in the back yard.


(No, this picture wasn't at all staged, really. Why would you even think that? ;) )

From earlier today, the first ice cream of the season! Okay, actually this isn't ice cream, but rather Abbott's Frozen Custard, which Hubby has always sworn is better than any ice cream in the world. Kiddo didn't disagree, exactly, either....



The first feeding of the ducks on the Erie Canal of the season, which also occurred earlier this afternoon:



So, we have gotten a lot accomplished already (and by "we" I mean "mostly Hubby because he is absolutely amazing at the amount of stuff he can accomplish in a short time and I'm seriously in awe") and we have a lot left to do. There have been a few surprises along the way, like discovering the return air ducts that should draw air out of our bedroom and Kiddo's bedroom instead don't connect to anything and are drawing air out of the space between the floor and the ceiling. That'll be a several hundred dollar professional repair job next week, which has pushed the carpet installation out by a week, which pushes the "getting the office and family room stuff moved out of temporary spaces and set up properly" project out by a week as well... but we're persevering, enjoying the neighborhood (it is SO much quieter than the old neighborhood, which we never even thought was that noisy!) and getting settled in, removing the Eau d'Oldster and replacing it with Eau d'Fresh Paint (Soft Linen and Garden Moss are the first two colors going up, we've yet to settle on a shade of pink for Kiddo's room and haven't even given any thought to the bathrooms yet) instead.

Hope everyone else is enjoying a paint-fume and wallpaper-removal free weekend, especially those of you celebrating a long, holiday weekend. If you want to see photos of the renovation, Hubby has started a blog to document our progress and I would be happy to point you that way; just send me an email and I'll give you the link! Alternatively, I've been posting pictures on Facebook, so if you aren't one of my Facebook friends and want to be, you can see all the photos your heart desires of the house project there as well - just friend me, baby!

More to come, with Kiddo's birthday, kindergarten class field trip to the zoo and birthday party all in the coming week!