This is for Suzanne...

... since she's not on Facebook, and she so loved my earlier story about the gerbil. Today, you know, the same exact day as the one I cleaned up gerbil carcass, I heard a frantic squeaking coming from the mouse cage. Ruby was on top of it, and when I yelled, she ran off. I noticed the mouse was limping. Upon further inspection, her front leg was gone. G-O-N-E. Ruby somehow got it through the cage bars, and I'm assuming she ate it. At first the mouse was trembling so hard I could actually see it from far away, but now she's just hobbling around like nothing is wrong, using one paw to eat, and running on her wheel. She's a resilient little fuzzball.

The Perilous Life of a Rodent

Um, I think I jinxed the gerbil. Remember last week? I mentioned I wished it would escape the cage? Well, I'm really all talk, I don't want any animal to get hurt. But I do admit I really disliked this particular gerbil. I liked her in the beginning - she's technically Fynn's, a birthday present from Sarah. But she bites HARD. I kid you not, I still have a lump in my finger from where she bit me three months ago. Really, she's a harmless little rodent, but it has become kind of a joke that I have a vendetta against her. I even tried to see once if she'd leave her cage and start exploring the backyard. But she was terrified, and when I actually saw her trembling, I felt major remorse and repented. I've protected her from Ruby the cat vigorously.

UNTIL...

Last night I noticed her cage topper was very slightly askew. Not enough for a cat to get in there, but certainly enough for a gerbil to escape. And sure enough, she wasn't in there. I wanted to find her before the cat did, so I did a thorough search and found nothing. This morning, I sat down at the computer, glanced around as I waited for it to load, and spotted a stub tail on the floor. Attached to a rear and two hind legs. And - that's all. Oh, besides the organs spilling out. Yeah, I hope you aren't eating lunch right now. So I had to clean that up, and I feel bad for the little gal. Thank goodness the boys weren't up, yet. I haven't disassembled or cleaned out her cage, yet, and today I found Oliver inspecting the crime scene.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

... start writing again. Really. I think I can. I WILL do it. It may take me a while to get back into the writing groove, but I will try. Since I don't have anything spectacular to report right now, I think I'll just give some wee updates on different topics and post a few pictures. Then we'll see what I can come up with tomorrow. Or the next day. Or, you know, sometime.

Ewan is incredible. He is loving kindergarten, and announced yesterday he has a girlfriend named Sarah. For the past two days, all he has talked about are the superhero team he has formed with Sarah, Natalie, each of us, and the cats. For Halloween, he wants to be AntMan, a hero he made up after an ant bit him (mimicking what he'd seen on Spiderman when Peter Parker is bitten by the spider.) Ewan is incredibly smart, and excessively sensitive. I love him madly and am so glad to be his mommy. I'm afraid he's more like me than I would like to admit, and that equates to being a major challenge. He requires more patience and care than the other two put together, but I know through prayer and faith, it'll all be worth it.
Fynn is hilarious and fun and stubborn and frustrating, and acts like a turd much of the time. He's in his testing phase, which means he ignores nine out of ten words that come out of my mouth just so he can see how I'll react. Unfortunately, I haven't been strict enough on him - not like I was on Ewan. Being pregnant and having Corgan when Fynn was so young really threw a wrench in my parenting philosophies and one year later, we are still recovering. But I'm trying to get the reins back, and hope to be raising a polite, kind, obedient little boy soon. I mean, within reason. He is a little boy, after all. And a very cute one at that. His face is so angelic, it belies the growling attitude he has most of the time. But he's still my little cherub who loves to play ball and cars, be a superhero, and copies everything his big brother does. Everything.

Corgan is quite a big boy. His height and weight are in the 95th percentile. He actually only began to army crawl about one month ago; the doctor said when they are tall and big like that it is harder for them to get their heft around. Today for the first time, he can go from crawling to sitting up all on his own. And he's ready to start pulling up to stand. It's possible he'll be a slightly late walker, but I'm not concerned. He loves the kitties and meows back at them. He actually had a two minute long conversation with momma kitty Ruby today. It was very cute. He says "dada" and is working on "mama" which usually comes out "nana." He's still more blond than his brothers, and I kiss his feet and squeeze his thighs regularly. I can't believe he'll be one year old in a month. I mean, didn't I just have him last month?

The animal kingdom is alive and thriving in my home. Well, maybe not thriving. Two months ago, a hamster escaped its cage and was found the next day - rather, a piece of her was found the next day. I guess Ruby was hungry. In addition, Ruby has severed the tails of two, count them, TWO different gerbils, as well as murdering another. The survivors, short stub tails notwithstanding, are doing well. One of them has become my friend, squeaking at me and letting me pet her. The other gerbil... Well, I just can't help wishing SHE had escaped her cage instead of the hamster. I actually have a pretty funny story about that, but I'll save it. I went a little crazy after the deaths of the gerbil and hamster, and replaced them rapidly. So the current (and final) tally is two gerbils, two mice, and two hamsters. I can't help it; I like the furry little buggers.

We have kept two of the kittens from Ruby's litter, two little boys we named Oliver and Mudflap (Ewan named him after a Transformer.) They are sweet little guys, and I love them so!


Lucy, a cat I bought with babysitting money when I was 16 years old, had to be put to sleep last week. She had a tumor behind her tongue that couldn't be removed without removing her tongue. So she was basically going to starve to death either way. I went to the veterinarian with my dad, who has been her constant companion since I left and got married, and I was with her until the end, which wasn't easy. I tell you, that cat has absorbed more of my tears in years past as she gave me love and comfort - during an awful heartbreak, through getting over it, moving away from home, coming back with my tail between my legs, through meeting Bryce and watching him leave on a mission, through the two years waiting for him to come home...
I feel badly for my parents, who had gotten quite attached to her, more attached than I've ever seen them to any other animal. But I'm sure she's happy, and I feel confident she's somewhere with my little Flex, playing and being friends.

Me, I'm still fat and trying to motivate myself to work out and lose the stinkin' weight. I had a setback in the middle of July when I injured my knee and had to have surgery. It's still not back at 100%, but I'm doing physical therapy, and hope to be back to normal very soon. Then I won't have any more excuses. Ewan said to me the other day, "Mommy, you need to lose weight. Every day you look like you have a baby in your belly. I call you 'needing to lose weight' mommy." It didn't hurt my feelings, it made me laugh. But when my five year old can tell I'm unhealthy, it's very convincing. For too long I've thought, "Hey, I'm young, I have time, I don't have to worry about disease or diabetes, yet." I realized finally that I am working my way through my 30s, and I don't have time anymore.

Bryce and I had our garage converted into a bedroom for us. Our home is very small - 850 sq. ft. give or take, only two bedrooms, and we were sharing a room with Corgan. There were days Bryce would come home and I'd be laying on my bed having a claustrophobic fit. There was just room for nothing, and often when I needed a moment to myself, Corgan would be napping and I couldn't go in there. I'm grateful for our house, and we have a nice, huge backyard, but we really needed our own space. So now we do, and it's lovely. Thanks to *you know who you are* for this wonderful room, and thanks to Shannon for helping me put it together.

This is already too long - the perils of not keeping up. I hope you stuck through to this point. Hopefully I will be up and running more often, humor intact. And now I need to catch up on all of your blogs! Now - good night!

New kitties!

Okay, so sorry because I SWORE I was going to be updating more often, even trying for every day. But first we all had a horrendous sinus infection, and then once we got well from that, both Bryce and I caught this very odd virus that made our whole bodies feel like we'd been in a cage match, with a low fever... bla blah. So I haven't been in the groove. I even neglected Primp & Tell pretty badly. Anyway, yesterday Ruby had another litter. I normally would never have allowed her to have two litters, especially back to back, but after what happened to Flex, I wanted baby kitties. And it's not as if I had a whole lot I could do - it's clear now she was pregnant before Flex was even killed. And I am so ecstatic. All day yesterday I was expecting the "big event" because Ruby was acting so sluggish, and after she had them, I was so giddy and happy it was like a kid on a sugar high. I do love cats. So much I'm actually a little teary right now. Anyway.... So I will probably be keeping that little calico beauty there, I love them. And I'll almost definitely keep another one, too, just not sure which one. I want to wait and see their little personalities and see how affectionate they are. Also, there is now photographic proof that there are FOUR of them, so if something happens like last time, I won't second-guess my sanity. Pardon the poor quality - I had to snap this quick before Ruby came back from eating and took off my hand for messing with them. I really don't want her to move them this time.

Taylor Status

What is the plural of "status?" Is it "statuses?" "Stati?" Hold on, I'm going to look it up... Oh, wow. It's "status." Hm! Who knew? Anyway... I know I haven't been doing regular posting here other than the occasional picture explosion, so I felt like just posting the state of all things Taylor-oriented.

Corgan is ginormo-baby. Every day, Bryce or I say, "When did he get so big?!" He has no teeth, yet, but he drools like a leaky dam. He's rolling over from back to tummy, and he's starting to experiment with some consonants, constantly screeching out "D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D!" He's a very happy baby, a major contrast from the colicky screamer he was the first few months. Every time he looks at someone, usually women, his jaw opens in a gigantic gummy grin and he crinkles his nose. We've made real progress in that our friend John doesn't make him cry anymore.

Fynn is so stinkin' fun. I can't believe how much he is growing and talking. He loves bugs, and we frequently find him on his belly, very closely examining a tiny creature. I have to stop him from picking up ants and spiders, but I do let him carry around a June bug when he finds one. The other day, he kept one in his hand, alive, through two hours of car travel and shopping time. However, that little booger WILL NOT sleep at night. We put him to bed at 8:00, and that kid will get up over and over again - sometimes more than a dozen times. Nothings works, either. We tried Super Nanny's advice of not saying anything to him, but immediately putting him back in bed, we've tried spanking (just a little tap). Nothing. Right now, having been put to bed an hour ago after not napping today, he's still in there taunting Ewan and roaring like a tiger.

Before I get into an update on Ewan, just a little about him. He's been quite difficult the last couple of years. He's very anxious and seems to have some sensory issues. It's all quite difficult to explain, but it has been a struggle, one that I fear will go on and I won't know how to handle. On the other hand, he's very smart. We could hold full conversations with him when he was barely two, and when he was three, he started sounding out and reading words on his own. He's very curious about words, and asks what everything he hears means. We recently (finally) got him into Pre-K through our elementary school. It has made such a difference. He'll now draw pictures (would never before, only scribble) and is more willing to work at something, whereas before if it was just a slight challenge, he would run screaming from the room devastated. Today, his teacher flagged me down to tell me their language and speech person visited the room today. She said to me, "This boy will read anything you put in front of him." Apparently, they gave him word lists, and he was reading at above a 4th grade level. So this language specialist is going to come in each week and work with him and see what else he's capable of. I was just so excited, because I worry about him so much. I had a hard time not crying in happiness for him. He's not into sports at all, but seems to have a very scientific mind, and you'll always find him in the company of adults rather than children. More than once I've gotten to school to pick him early and found him on the playground, talking his teacher's ear off while the children ensued in hilarity around him. He's quite an interesting, awesome kid.

Bryce is working hard, but may need a second job soon. I'm trying to keep up with everything, and barely succeeding. The kittens are cute and growing and each one has a home waiting for it. In fact, one will be staying with us and Ewan has named him Flex.

Fynn scopes out the insect life.

The biggest worm I have ever seen, even after being accidentally cut by a shovel.

So disgusting, yet so AWESOME.

Flex is on the left. Say a prayer: Fynn is determined to slam the door on one of them.

This is what Fynn does when I've banned him from the kittens. I tried to get a shot of one of their paws coming out, but they were too quick.

Glorified Online Picture Album

I realize this is what my blog has become, but I'm okay with that. My energies are going to other places right now. At any rate:

One of the fun things about having boys is getting spectacularly goofy shirts like this one that remind me of stuff my brothers would have worn.

I know he's only two, but I swear he's never going to grow out of using his ice-cream bowl as a hat. Maybe I should stop taking pictures of it. It perpetuates the myth that it's amusing.

Huh. I guess it is amusing. And cute. Until I have to clean it up. You should have seen his booster seat. Maybe he does it for the afternoon bath that inevitably follows.

We never found the third white kitty that disappeared. I really am completely flummoxed as to what could have happened. Here are the two white survivors. They have markings like a Siamese. One of them will have a permanent home with us. Probably the boy.

Yeah, enjoy it now, Mama Kitty. The vet is calling your name.

Mary Ann has staked her claim on this little guy. He is quite cute. Wait, it's a girl. I think.

What do you do...

... if your cat had four kittens, and now there are only three? And a thorough search was unfruitful?

Rebelling against Bob Barker

We're great grand-parents. Ruby is the proud mother of four wee babies. And they are cute. So cute. There really aren't words to describe brand-new baby kittens. Cute isn't enough - but what else to say? The pics aren't the best because I really just want to leave her alone with them and I was trying to hurry. There are three whitish ones and one gray one with a white chin. I wonder which one we'll keep? Side note: this is a big day for an even better reason than new kittens. Check back later today...

Cute, proud mama, telling me to get the h*** away from her spawn. Just kidding. She seems to like me there.

One of the white ones. I'm hoping it will end up with Siamese markings.

Very blurry shot of the gray one and another white one. So stinking cute!
I really want to squeeze their little pink noses.

Unloading the camera

Ewan and Fynn got new baseball hats.  Fynn sleeps with his every nap time.  I found him like this the other afternoon.  Trying to shield the light from his eyes?

Chillin' on a Sunday afternoon.

I think she wants some gerbil meat.  Must be a pregnancy craving for protein.  Yep, she's pregnant.  Want a kitten?  You know I'll end up keeping one.

If only Corgan had been next to Fynn instead of Bryce, and I would have had perfect little stairsteps.

Do these belong to you?  I washed a load of laundry and these were in the bottom of the washer when it was done.  I have never seen them before in my life.  Neither has Ewan.  Fynn can't tell me what I need to know.  I cannot figure out where they came from.  Please let me know if they are yours, and I shall return them.  I guess the exchange rate for a pair of socks is two play butter-knives.

Let me count the ways

The number of reasons why I love this video are too many to count.  Cheesy and silly, maybe, but at least I've stopped short of hanging posters of kittens and babies on my walls.

An Illustrated List of Unconventional Thankfulness

I am not a person who can get sappy publicly. Trust me, I have nothing against sap, I just can't express it. It makes me squirm and fidget. Needless to say, I am extremely thankful for my family and our home and all the things I discuss with Heavenly Father. I love my family more than anything in the world and am beyond grateful for my life. I'll leave it at that. But there are other things I am thankful for, like:

Creative solutions.

Winning contests:

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Vacuums and mops.

Therapy.

Cats. Most of the time. This picture was not taken during one of those times.

Okay, I'll get as sappy as I can, if you insist:

I am thankful for pictures of my squishy, sweet baby by a great, talented friend.

Carpet picnics with these guys (heck, for that matter, I'm thankful for McDonalds):

And even this guy. He takes good care of me. Even if he did skin Elmo.

And I'm thankful for many more things, including all of you. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

People disgust me...

... and maybe I'll disgust you with my cheesiness, but this kitty is an amazing little guy, despite some brats' efforts at playing football with him.

This now lives on my wall

I've admired him from afar for many a day, and he finally went on sale. As Sarah pointed out, it kind of replaces my maimed red kitty. Kind of. His cute little eyes swing from side to side. I love him.