My Exciting Saturdays: A Retrospective

My sister called on Friday to ask what my plans were for the weekend.  I excitedly told her “Tomorrow is fire safety day for the kids at Home Depot!  There will be games and prizes and crafts!”    Kendall:  “….. are you serious?”  It’s a legitimate question considering how differently I would have answered 5 years ago.

5 years ago, back when we were both single, back when the economy was thriving, back when I had more money than common sense, there was the Saturday morning text.  “T Cycle?”  It was meant to say “U awake?” but T9 predictive text always fucked it up and we just went with it.

Who ever woke up first would send the text and patiently wait for the “am now” reply which gave permission to actually call.  Chances are one or both of us had been out the night before doing God-knows-what and we dared not actually call before we had permission from the other party.

From there we would make our “plans”, which was absurd because it was the same thing every Saturday.  Meet at either Red Lobster or Red Robin, have lunch (and a few cocktails), then hit Nordstroms and Saks.  We’d spend ABSURD amounts of money on shoes, makeup and clothes.  We’d buy Valentino handbags and leave the store hugging them, telling them they were our new best friends and even assigning them names.  (Sully is one of my favourite handbags to this day.) Eventually we’d part ways after 4 or 5 hours of binge shopping.  Sometimes we’d do it all over again on Sunday.

Now then my big plans had shifted from the spa at Nordies to the parking lot at home Depot.  She didn’t opt to join us for that particular outing, but she did agree to meet us at Chuck E. Cheese’s for lunch.  (Again, not quite Red Lobster, but I was still looking forward to it.)

There were definitely “”Normal Rockwell”-esque elements to the day, with the whole family being together and doting over Donovan, trying think of what we could do to keep improving his super-awesome day.  Then there were moments that were just like old times…. i.e. Kendall screaming “Die you cock-sucking little mother-fuckers” at the whack-a-mole machine.  (I gave her a suitably horrified look and she responded with “What?? *I* don’t have any kids…”)

All in all, Donovan’s day included:  Building a wooden boat at Home Depot, painting said boat, playing hockey with dad, splashing in puddles, meeting some firemen, sitting in the driver’s seat of the firetruck, lunch at Chuck E. Cheese’s, playing ski ball, playing basketball, riding one of those coin-operated horses… and the coup de gras: the ice cream truck pulling up outside our house Saturday night.

Next weekend:  “The Gentle Zoo” – a project whose proceeds go to animal shelters.  It  includes, train rides, giant maze, bounce house, petting zoo, pony rides, crafts, photo ops, etc.  I know we’re spoiling him, it’s just so much fun to see him so-totally-stoked.  Almost as much fun as dropping a grand on food, booze, and Valentino 🙂

Sims, Spaniels and Scotch

Things are settling down nicely at Casa de Nevershagagreek.

Pool Boy’s started his new job yesterday and he’s LOVING it.  He gets to wear jeans all-day-every-day.  It’s a “come and go as you please” type schedule.  He’s already been invited out to dinner with coworkers.  The work/life balance seems to be much better.  Less travelling.  And:  FREE GAMES!

He bought “me” an Xbox a few weeks ago in anticipation of all the new games.  Then last night he brought home Sims because I was briefly addicted to the game when I first got my iPhone a few years ago.  Bless him he was SO proud.  “Go upstairs!  Play your new game!  I’ll take Donovan to the park.  I’ll give him a bath!  Go enjoy your new game!”  So, I spent the next couple of hours cursing at the complicated controller all the while feeling really OLD.

HOLY SHIT - ALL THE BUTTONS.

I finally managed to create 3 Sims that vaguely resembled my family.  That was about as far as I got.  It took me literally 30 minutes to realize I kept accidentally pausing the game.  Eventually I got my Sim go pee and wash her hands…  Then I turned off the TV and went downstairs.  They may have all starved to death by now.  Does that happen??  Anyway, I think PB was sad to see me come down after having only spent a few hours with the new game, but I really did feel bad with him taking sole care of Dono all night.  Plus I’m 30.  I think my days of staying up all night playing video games are behind me.  (OK, and I was a little miffed at not being able to figure the damn thing out.  What am I, 80?)

The adoration may be *slightly* one-sided.

Bonny is also doing well.  Sweet puppy* follows me everywhere I go.  Silly though it may be, that really means a lot to me.  I just can’t hug her enough.  Dono is also still thrilled about her.  He’ll point to her and say “puppy?” (which is his generic term for “dog I don’t know”).  The look on his face says “Um… did you know there’s a random dog in the house?  Are you cool with that?  Because I’m kinda diggin’ it.”  I’ll say “Yes, that’s Bonny.”  At which point he’ll squat down to pet her and say “niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice puppy.”  He’s pretty much the president of her fan club.

*She is not actually a puppy.  She’s actually fairly old.  But all dogs are puppies to me and mine.

In other news, Weight Watchers is still going well.  I’m continuing to lose weight!  I think I’ve lost 7.5 lbs so far.  I still have a long way to go, but at least things are moving in the right direction.

Still, I have a wedding coming up soon and I’m not sure what I’m going to wear.  This isn’t a wedding I’m necessarily looking forward to.  For a lot of reasons.  OK, 2 reasons.  First off, I’m NOT a fan of 1/2 of the couple.  Secondly, I think it’s a huge mistake for the other half.  I’m trying really hard not to judge other people’s relationships (Some women LIKE a jealous man.  Some women want to be submissive.  Some women like a man who’s trying to change them because they feel like they need to be changed.  Whatever – not all women are me is what I’m trying to say).  Still, there are times where I see little red flags that no one else sees.  Growing up with abuse gives you that special 6th sense.  It’s not much of a consolation prize, but damn if it’s not come in handy more than once.

With that said, there have been a few times recently where I found myself thinking “Yeah… I’m going to need a little liquid courage to get through this particular event.”  With that said, I found this fun little item today!  It’s from North Africa, circa 1940.  I believe (hope) that to be bone.

It's antique, which means I can feel classy while drinking my way through awkward situations!

If I can just get through the wedding with my mouth shut, smile firmly painted on my face, I’ll be fine.

Welcome Home, Bonny!

Great news on the animal front!

Patient dog. Very patient dog.

Since Potential Puppy was being fostered at a rescue where I happen to have friends, we were able to act pretty quickly.  We ended up having her delivered yesterday, which was pretty awesome!  Talk about service!  My mom was kind enough to hang out at the house while she got acquainted with our other dog.  Absolutely no issues whatsoever.  Hurdle #1 cleared!

Then Pool Boy got home.  Franny is DEFINITELY Pool Boy’s dog, so I was a little concerned she’d go in to jealousy mode once he got home, but still no issues.  Hurdle #2 cleared!

From there mom and Pool Boy went to fetch Donovan.  This was my biggest concern.  Would Franny get over-protective?  Would Potential Puppy hide from Donovan (or worse??)

Why does my hand look like that of a 70 yr old woman?

I got home probably 5 minutes after they arrived with Donovan and they were one big happy family.  Donovan was ecstatic.  ECSTATIC I tell you.  I thought his little toddler head was going to explode.  Two dogs??  TWO DOGS???  Especially since she’s nearly identical to Franny.  It was like we took his favorite thing on the planet and cloned it.  Potential Puppy was awesome.  She let Donovan pet her and cuddle her and wallow around on her and didn’t seem to mind a bit.  Hurdle #3 cleared!

Our last concern was how she would be on walks with Franny.  Would they fight?  Would she be aggressive with other dogs while outside and/or on a leash?  So, off we went.  Once again it couldn’t have gone better!!  Finally, hurdle #4 cleared.  By the time we went to bed last night I had texted the rescue to say she was definitely coming to live with us.

New Cocker on the left, existing Fat Ass Cocker on the right.

There’s a small part of me that feels guilty… like maybe Tres deserves to be mourned for longer and that maybe I’m not honoring his memory by “replacing” him so quickly.  But I could never replace him, and Tres wouldn’t want me to be sad forever.  Plus, I think he’d be happy that another sweet “special needs” animal (whose odds of getting adopted weren’t stellar) had found a good home.

The text from her www.petfinder.com page said:

What a precious face… Miss Cyrus is a wiggle butt lover! Cyrus was left at the pound by her prior owner. When we saw her sweet face and felt her snuggle against our legs, we knew she needed to come with us! Cyrus was taken to the vet where her medical conditions were evaluated. In subsequent months, Cyrus has had to have one eye removed due to injury, a mammory cyst removed and has endured heartworm treatment. Thru it all; this gal has maintaned her love for life and her sweet and gentle natured personailty. Now Miss Cyrus has a new and improved healthy body to go with her sweet sweet waggy gal smile. Cyrus is ready for a new home. She is happy, healthy and ready to share all her love with a new human, She is spayed, current on shots, on heartworm prevention and is microchipped. She has a new lease on life and would love to share it with you.

How could we NOT adopt her??  Also, if you haven’t checked out Petfinder.com yet, I highly recommend you have a look next time you’re looking for a new pet!  It’s like Match.com for animals that need homes.  If you’re only looking for a purebred, still have a look.  A shocking number of purebreds end up in the pound (our 2 Cocker’s, for example).

I’ve renamed her Bonny (since she only has one eye, I thought I’d go with a “pirate” themed name).  She’s settled right in like she’s been here forever.  She has her favorite chair, she sleeps with me at night, and she follows me wherever I go… which is awesome.  I’m so happy to have her, and she seems pretty happy to have me too!

See? She's clearly thrilled.

In loving memory of Tres, the best damn cat there ever was.

So…. my cat died on Sunday.  I know not everyone sees pets in the same way, but this is beyond devastating to me.  When our over-religious neighbors showed up on our doorstep to tell me they had found my cat and he had”passed away” probably ranks up there with the worst moments in my life, and I’m being TOTALLY honest.  I guess he was feeling brave and decided to use the dog door, an unlikely scenario I had nonetheless prepared for.  Our backyard is a FORTRESS.  I made sure of it.  How he got out will probably remain a mystery, unfortunately.

Tres was with me before Pool Boy.  Before Donovan.  Before this new house, before Chicago…. Tres was my ally for years and years and years.

The dog basically belongs to David, despite my best efforts at bribery.  (How many walks and Milk Bones does it take to win the loyalty of a freaking Cocker Spaniel???)  For whatever reason, the kid does too recently.  Donovan will be all wrapped around his daddy and I’ll ask “Can I have a hug, buddy?” and he’ll say “no!  no!  no!!!”  not in a defiant way, but more in a “please for the love of God don’t hurt me!!” type way.  He looks terrified of me!  And I’m the really patient/cuddly one!

But Tres was always on my side.  When Donovan would wake up in the middle of the night, Pool Boy and the dog would sleep through it, but Tres and I would get up.  He’d meow at me when I got up and follow me to go tend to Donovan.  Those times are the most sad now.  Times when I used to have my buddy and now I’m alone.

On the “bright side”, if there is one, Tres was a “special needs cat” and I gave him a very good home.  I realized years ago that people don’t tend to adopt the animals with deformities or injuries (Tres was missing a leg, hence the name.  Uno, Dos, Tres.)  It’s silly really that people care SO much about the appearance of their pets.  The “special needs” pets are the sweetest, in my experience.  I haven’t owned a “normal” animal since my teenage years.

With that said, we’d been planning to get another dog for a while.  Ironically, I recognized how completely devistated we would one day be when Franny (our current dog) died, and I knew we wouldn’t have the heart to get another one after she passed, so I wanted to get one now even though Franny’s still pretty young.  I can never be without a pet!

Since I’m sort of left all alone now, the odd man out from the Pool Boy-Baby-Dog club, I’ve decided that I’M going to get a dog now.  Nothing could ever replace sweet Tres, but it’s just so lonely recently.

Then a friend of mine called – their rescue has a one-eyed Cocker Spaniel.  She looks JUST like the dog we have, only she’s missing her left eye.  We still have a few hurdles to cross – how will she get along with the Cocker spaniel we already have?  How will she deal with Donovan?  She’s coming over to meet us tomorrow.  I really hope things work out…

 The rescue said she’s just the sweetest dog in the world, but she’s fallen victim to “black dog” syndrome.  For whatever reason, black dogs tend to get overlooked at adopt-a-pet’s.  Especially one-eyed black dogs.  I’m an emotional mess, and I’m falling a little bit in love with her just looking at her picture.  She looks like she needs me as much as I need her.

However, if all goes well and we adopt her and she also decides that Pool Boy is the only human in the house worth knowing, I’ll REALLY be upset.  I plan to keep him completely away from her for at least the first month.  MY DOG, DAMMIT!

Wish me luck, everyone.

 

It’s Friday! Here’s what I learned this week:

This week marked my reluctant entrance in to the world of cloth diapers.

Not REAL cloth diapers with safety pins and all that, but the modern day ones that don’t require a degree in geometry to fold properly.  The ones with built in elastic and snaps at the waist.

There’s nothing about me that’s hippie or granola or even remotely environmentally friendly to be honest, so I never thought I’d be ordering something called “hemp inserts”… but desperate times, my friends.

random water buffalo.

Probably 4 months ago we started having issues with Donovan soaking through his diaper at night.  Turns out that he, like me, has the bladder of a water buffalo.  This means he’ll be handy on road trips when he’s older, but in the meantime it just amounts to washing lots of sheets.  We tried going up a size in diapers, trying 2 different “overnight” varieties, we tried the “pull up” ones meant for older kids (they fit him fine) but NOTHING was working.

In researching online someone suggested cloth diapers because you could just double the inserts and *poof!* no more puddles.  The online world of cloth diapers is a dark and scary one, filled with too-many options and what I believe to be some sort of secret code.  I finally just picked a “value pack” from FuzziBunz and hoped for the best.  Some value tho, those bad boys are FREAKING EXPENSIVE.

At any rate, I waited and waited and waited but they never came.  Eventually I called the company for a refund, which they promptly gave me.  A week or so after that, my massive package of diapers came.  I called the company to get a shipping label to return them, but I never got one, so I tossed the package in my trunk and forgot about them until last weekend when I decided “what the hell, I’m down with free diapers”.

Is this where I'm supposed to put the diaper? Something doesn't look right...

What I learned:

1. Pool Boy is sort of “waiting this one out” and clearly sees it as just another of his wife’s crazy ideas.
2. Once you utter the phrase “just dump the solids out in the toilet” to your husband, you’re totally alone in diaper-duty from that point forward.
3. They’re cute enough that he can roam around the house in just his diaper without being called “white trash baby” by my sister.
4. They actually work well as overnight diapers!
5. They also work as hats.
6. You’d think they’d be all gross and stained after the first use, but they come out looking brand new after every wash.
7. Whatever you do, for the love of God and all things holy, don’t use fabric softener on them.  Apparently that’s their kryptonite.
8. Knowing that I’m doing slightly less damage to the environment than usual is a nice feeling.
9. So is saving money every time I use one instead of a disposable.
10. The most important thing:  They allow you to coordinate your child with your decor.  And isn’t that what we all look for in a diaper?