Another Cat

Ever since that stray tabby has been hanging around, I have threatened to bring it in, or get a second cat.  And Mister Man told me to go ahead.  He told me I could have my own cat!  MY OWN!



I wasn't even in the market for my own cat....




But he said I could have one, and well, who can pass up that opportunity.





It finally rained here last Thursday, and our little neighborhood stray didn't like the rain.  I thought if it followed me home, I was going to have no choice but to give it shelter.  But it didn't follow me.  And then on Friday, we saw it with another neighbor on our street.  Apparently it likes to visit many households.  It's a friendly feline, after all.



And then on Sunday, this happened.

Technically it happened last week, briefly visiting the fence, then dashed away.

I thought it would dash away again....

But then this happened....

It saw The Redhead.

And well, the rest is history.

The Redhead found a new friend.

A silky soft friend.

That seems to love children.

Or at least this child.

But, before you wonder if it's actually ours...

Alas, that fuchsia colored collar with the jingle bells tells me that sweet little feline belongs to someone else.

Even if it did try to claim The Redhead for its very own.

It really liked her.

Really, really liked her.

Even going as far as....

Down.

Yeah, it jumped down, off the fence.

And when I tried putting it back on the fence, it jumped right back down.

So, wondering if the cat would indeed be able to get back out of our yard, I did what any reasonable person would do in my situation.  I told The Redhead to release The Kraken.  And I didn't even know that dog could run.  But she did.  I also didn't know she would have a problem with the cat, but apparently she doesn't like feline trespassers in the back yard.  And boy could that cat run too.  Escaping was not an issue.  It used its claws right up the telephone pole and away it went.  It came back within minutes and was waiting at our back door, staring up with its gorgeous eyes.  Until the big beast saw it.  And then repeat...

The Minions in Blue

For what may seem like an epic fail of the Pinterestese to most, I see as a victory.  I finally used those Twinkies I bought ages ago, right before they expired.  Sure, I was out of black and grey frosting and had to use blue as their goggles, but you know what?  They were made.  And The Redhead and her friend thought they were awesome.  So did Mister Man's coworkers.  They seemed to work as a Monday treat.  And I didn't have to eat anymore nasty Twinkies.



That doesn't seem like an epic fail to me at all.

Just some extra proof that baking on a whim doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be fun.  And edible.  Much like my back to school pie.

That time I had to do ALL the Laundry

ALL of it.

At least the laundry in our bedroom closet.  The ones in the dresser were fine, fortunately.  The clean towels piled in a basket, however, were not fine.  And also need washed.  Again.

But I now have four stacks of laundry.  At least.  And each stack is not just one load.  Oh no.  Not at all.  And then after it is all washed, it will of course, need put away.  Joy. So.much.joy.

Did I mention my in laws are coming on Tuesday to stay with us?





I know I'm not the only one that pushes themselves to get a ton of things done, including things that no one cares about, all in anticipation of guests.  And this is the first time we're having guests staying with us for a period of time.  It has little to do with them, but more so that feeling you get where you want to make sure everything is as perfect as you think it should be.  And just as I thought maybe, just maybe I would get everything done, this happened.




This being that time Mister Man decided to choose the Tuesday before his parents came to sand our bedroom walls, the walls that used to have wood paneling on them, until he randomly decided one day to remove it, the walls that have had that nasty vomit-like glue stuck on them for months and months.  Those walls.  And on Tuesday, he decided to sand them.  However, he did not cover anything.  ANYTHING.  Or close our bathroom door.  Or close our closet door.  Or move anything out of the room.  So anything in there or opened has felt the aftermath of that sanding.  An inch or two of white powdery dust occupying every tiny little space and belonging in our room.  And our bathroom.  And most importantly, our closet.  Where all of our clothes are.

I have waited until he was finished with this disaster before I would finally start washing everything.  It feels like we moved again.  Things are ruined.  Forever.  Things need washed.  And I'll be cleaning and dusting and breathing funny for an incredibly long time.  I also have to wipe down every single hanger of ours.  I know he feels bad about it.  But it doesn't change the fact I have a lot of work to do.  A lot of work I didn't originally have to do.  Work that is now added to my massive to-do list.





To top that stress off and all the laundry, I have a rash, only on my left arm and hand, as well as infected cuts all over my hand, from some evil weed I killed out last night while gardening.  Its toxic revenge has worked quickly and my left side aches.  So of course, that's not helping make this any easier.



That, and it took over an hour just to separate all the clothes for washing.

I have so much work ahead of me and so much laundry.  But I know somewhere there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  There has to be.  We have guests coming on Tuesday.  And I know me.  Even if other people will doubt me,  I know what I'm capable of.  It's going to get done.  But it doesn't mean I don't get to grumble about it.  Or laugh.  Or bring this moment up in the future.

Avoiding Disaster

It could have been an epic disaster.  One of astronomical proportions.



And then it wasn't.




Fortunately.



The Redhead has quite a large biography project due tomorrow.  And normally my child is not a procrastinator.  Just recently I was bragging on Facebook on how she insisted on doing three days of makeup homework in one afternoon because it was important to her to get it all finished immediately.  And she has been working diligently on the steps of this project: reading the book, making a poster (as though the subject would be running for President), the cover, and so forth.  She also has to present her report and campaign poster in class.  And then I was reading the assignment sheet and almost choked when I saw the words, "dressed as your subject."  Or whatever the words were.  I'm still traumatized.



Now, I know I wasn't nice at this point.  Because here it is, due tomorrow, presentation is tomorrow, and I'm just now finding out she has to dress up.  As Neil Armstrong.  Which is annoying on many levels.  One....totally last minute.  Two...we used to have half a dozen leftover plastic astronaut helmets from her fifth birthday party....that we chose not to pack.  What on earth were we going to do last minute?!


You can only imagine how angry I was.  Trust me.  Because in reality, my anger far surpassed the imagination.  Even if there was a chance they went over this in class when she was sick, because really, this isn't like her.  I was angry, regardless.



I try to back off as much as possible with her projects.  I know a lot of parents do them for their children, but my kid isn't learning anything if I'm doing the work, except learning that Mommy will do it.  And well, that's not all that valuable of a lesson.  Unless I want a mooch the rest of my life.  And a child incapable of doing her own projects.  But when it comes to this costume, had I known, I would have sewn her some sort of jumpsuit, appliqued a ball cap, and added any other sort of details.  Maybe even construct some sort of helmet.  Not because I wanted to do it for her, but because that would have helped her become Neil Armstrong for her report.  And if I couldn't have sewn it, I would have ordered something from my pals at Amazon.  But finding out all of this at 4 o'clock in the afternoon with a presentation the next day doesn't really make much of that possible.




TRU didn't carry astronaut costumes.  I know they once had something like that, but alas, not anymore, at least not at our closest location.  Party City was our next destination and that was a lost cause.  I was spoiled by the KC area Party City locations.  They were large and helpful.  This one was dismal.  And probably a third of the size that I'm used to.



Then Mister Man had a plan.  He's on a business trip, but from Laguna Beach, he managed to find a costume store in our area, find out they had astronaut costumes in stock, and managed to send us there.  It's almost 90 degrees, my car a/c is still out from last summer, I'm cranky, I didn't have a GPS in my car, but we made it.  And fortunately, they indeed had a costume in her size.  We even could pick from two colors, orange and white.  We also had the option to rent or buy.  I went ahead and shelled out $61 after taxes.  And I know, I know, that's a lot of money.  But it's white.  You and I both know the chances of that staying white at school are quite slim.  I might as well pay the full amount now, rather than pay $32 now and the rest later.



And for last minute peace of mind....it was worth every penny.  Plus, it will give my slightly apprehensive fourth grader a bit more confidence as she presents her report in front of the class.  And that's priceless.

The Little Things

I'm always amused by the little things in life.  I try my best to remember to appreciate them.  To celebrate them.  To share them.



And to never forget them.




And just in case you're curious, it's testing season at our school.  And something I thought was amazing at our old school was how the staff would come together with their students and put together testing incentives and treats for the older grades who were testing, often involving some sort of pun, and the PTO would fund these efforts.  The younger grades would even cheer the testing students on in the hallways on their way to the testing lab.  I thought it all was absolutely brilliant.  Their teamwork and thoughtfulness constantly took my breath away.



And it doesn't appear our school here does quite the same things, which is okay.  It's not going to stop me from stealing some of the things I loved from our old school and implementing them for our new classroom.  Fortunately, The Redhead's teacher was okay with me doing so.  She humors me constantly, luckily.

Those are for day one.  The kisses and mints are for before the test.  The roll-ups are for afterwards. They're not much, but it's something.  I'll also do something for Wednesday's test as well. Like most things I do, I'm not sharing this to make me come across as all that fabulous of a person.  I have flaws just like the next person.  In fact, I know so many people who can tell you all about my flaws.  They'll gladly do it.  They would love to do it.  But I have this belief that if I can do something and I think about doing it, then perhaps I should just do it.  And don't you think those students are worth it?  Tests are a big deal.  Especially state assessment tests.  For a lot of kids, it's a nauseating process.  For some kids, it's just another way for them to feel inferior. Assessment tests are also really stressful on teachers.  Incredibly stressful.  If you've never thought about it, send your teacher some chocolate during test week.  Trust me.  And don't forget the students either.  And especially your own student(s).  It's the little things that make up our lives the most, and for every little thing you do, it does make a difference, no matter how small.  I'm just glad I had the best examples at our old school to learn from in this case.  And if you too want to do something like this, The Pinterestese also have some marvelous ideas.

We're a geeky sort of family

And if you think about today's date, you just might get it too.

A special thanks goes to the 99 Cent Store for making my geek fantasies come true.  At least today.  Because for exactly $5 (we're not charged tax for most foods in California) I made two pies and had a lot of laughs.

Turtle Power

Just last week, I took Mister Man aside while The Redhead was in the backyard and told him we needed something, anything, for her in the backyard.  I told him she was bored and that's why she keeps wanting to go out front with her doll stroller and stuffed friends and play on those giant rocks.  We needed to get started on turning the smaller shed into a playhouse.  We needed to do something. Kids are supposed to play outside.  Kids are supposed to be active.  And since plucking our wee tot from The Midwest where she had a sandbox, a play structure with slide, clubhouse, high bar, rings, and swings, plastic playhouse pirate ship, and other various outdoor toys, we have since dropped her in the west where she has rocks.  The latest thing to bring joy to her face outside consists of a bug house from Target's dollar bins.  We left part of her old stuff in Kansas in the other house's backyard for our tenant's small son, and sold the rest or just simply gave it away.  Including her worm farm and bug houses.


We justified it by saying she was already nine and wouldn't need another swing set or sandbox.  But I think we both underestimated the impact of taking those items away, simply because we were moving.  Mister Man hadn't even thought about her needing anything and he's felt bad about it ever since I told him.  We knew we needed to get to work making our yard worthy of outside playtime.  We had to do something.



These are the years that kids should be playing outside.  It's critical for development.  I read these things all the time complaining how kids don't play outside anymore, that they just play inside on computers and game systems.  And while The Redhead loves her game consoles and computer playtime, she has also been a child who loves the great outdoors.  But aside from the excitement of riding her bicycle and playing with her plush husky in a stroller, she isn't getting quite the thrill that she used to.  Sure, she stills goes hunting for bugs, but that's about it on the fun scale.



I hate the thought that we left that outdoorsy child in Kansas.  And I think Mister Man does too.



So while our gears have been turning and we have been coming up with ideas for the backyard, we knew the one thing she wouldn't have again was the sandbox.  Sure, she loved her awesome sandbox, the huge one with the attached picnic table and umbrella, with the particular sand Mister Man had to have.  But we didn't think we needed to buy a new one or make one.  And then we were driving last Sunday and suddenly we see a green plastic turtle sandbox on the curb, right up the street from our house.  We didn't stop for it, but we should have.  Mister Man said maybe when we came back later in the day.  But I know how that always turns out.  He also KNEW it wouldn't fit in the car.  I thought it would, but I didn't want to argue.  So we headed off for the day.  When we drove back home, surprisingly it was still there, now buried under a bunch of tree trimmings.  It appeared someone was cleaning out their backyard.  And just as Mister Man thought he'd walk home with a sandbox and lid, I was right.  It did fit.  And it was in great shape, other than missing some eyes.  No cracks, it wasn't even that faded.  Someone else's trash is indeed someone else's treasure.


Before we had a chance to do much else, we dashed out for some sand. By late afternoon, it was ready to go.  And then that night I had an epiphany.  I wanted to turn that eyeless turtle sandbox into something else.  Into something even better than a free sandbox.  I wanted to turn it into a Ninja Turtle.



I told Mister Man my idea and asked him, "wait, how much do you want to bet someone else has done this on Pinterest?"


Because folks, I have this concrete theory that every good idea has been thought of by someone else, by multiple someones.  No matter how good you think an idea is, don't be so egotistical to not consider someone else has thought of it too.  If you doubt me, get a craft idea in your head.  Check and see what the Pinterestese have done.  Someone out there has probably done it too.


And sure enough....Ninja Turtle sandbox brought up several pins.  Now came the part I dreaded.  I was going to have to ask The Redhead permission before I even thought about taking a paintbrush to her sort of new sandbox.  It could go either way.  She can jump for joy over my brilliant ideas....or brutally crush them with her tiny feet.  (And yes, I did need to ask her.  We'd already given it to her, it wouldn't be fair to then vandalize it.)


Fortunately, she loved the idea.  She also loved that I thought of it, and then found it on Pinterest too, like so many other ideas.  She had a couple of guidelines though.  It had to be Donatello, and I was only allowed to paint his face.  She knew I would want to do more.


I'm not sure why I love the Ninja Turtles so much, but I do.  Technically, they were in my brother's generation.  They were his toys.  He had so many.  I remember one year he had a Ninja Turtle cake for his birthday.  He had other items as well.  And I recall watching the cartoon every weekday afternoon with him.  Perhaps what I like so much about them is that nostalgic reminder of childhood, of innocence.  That once upon a time there were four baby turtles mutated into ninjas as well as a young girl with a little brother, watching them on the screen, one of the only cartoons that growing girl would watch.


By the time I was a freshman in college, he was no longer playing with his Ninja Turtles.  He was nearing twelve and only cared about game systems and Pogs.  This justified the fact I stole the four main turtles and one April O'Neil for my college dorm room.  My roommate and I hung them from the ceiling with fishing line alongside her New Kids on The Block dolls and other weird memorabilia from our youth.  Our dorm was a thing of greatness.  April hung out on my computer because she was me.  At least I told people she was me in reporter form.  We looked a lot alike and at the time I thought perhaps I wanted to be a sports journalist.  Or maybe I just wanted to be April O'Neil.  I still do.



The last couple of years, the Ninja Turtles have been making a comeback.  Last year for Christmas, I asked for a Ninja Turtle hat and tee and received both from The Redhead.  My shirt received so many compliments at work, mostly from guys.  There is just something about ninjas.  And turtles.  What a combination.  Pure genius.



Another great combination?  Free sandbox.  Turned Ninja Turtle.  A bonus?  The Redhead has inherited my love of mutated turtles.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.  And modifiable.  Thank you, Sharpie.

Luckily, Folk Art makes outdoor acrylic paints.

I traced the bottom of the paint bottle for the inner eye, and messed up a bit, but fortunately paint will cover it right up.

It doesn't get better than that.