Easter in Photos

Today

Wendy taught me a song this morning, one that she learned in Bible class. I'm sure it's been around for awhile, but I had never heard it before.

"A fuzzy caterpillar wiggled down a tree.
He wiggled right, he wiggled left, he wiggled right at me.
I put him in a box. "Don't go away," I said.
But when I looked again I saw a butterfly instead.
Now I could never make one, even if I tried,
'Cause only God in Heaven can make a butterfly"

I did a little Googling and found a second verse:

"Wiggly little tadpole swimming in a lake.
He wiggles here, he wiggles there, he wiggles like a snake!
Put him in a jar, "Don't go away," I said.
But when I opened up the jar - a hopping frog instead!
I could never make one, even if I tried.
Hopping frogs are made by God just like the butterfly!"

God can completely transform a caterpillar into a butterfly, and a tadpole into a frog...I'm praying He transforms this selfish Mama into one who is more patient, gracious, and loving.

Special Delivery

I seem to have an aura about me. About my whole house, really. As Heather commented on Twitter, "There must be a sign in Cat that says 'Bring kittens here ---->' :-) " It's true, I've always been an ailurophile. I've always loved cats, from wee-teeny fluffballs with sideways ears and still-sealed eyelids to crotchety, wizened old grandma cats. When I was in school and working as a vet, I seemed to have a never-ending stream of kittens/cats that needed homes. I'm not even working anymore, and yet...

At our house this morning, David was calmly playing near the front door when he suddenly started shrieking and signing, "Scared!" while looking at the door. I hugged him and asked Wendy to peek out the door to see if something was on the porch; we occasionally have random big dogs sniffing around our porch. She looked out and said, "Mommy! There's a baby kitty stuck in our door!"

I said, "There is not a baby kitty stuck in our door," as I went to see for myself.

I was right. There was not a baby kitty stuck in our door. There were four baby kitties between the screen door and the front door, and the Mama Cat was poking her head through the screen with number five in her mouth, just like it was a mail slot. Plop! Five kittens stuck in the door.

I brought them inside. I mean, seriously - it was storming, the kittens were wet and terrified, and Mama was looking at me with big, hopeful eyes. Now I have six cats in my bathroom.

One Mama, a petite black longhair, who looks to be about 8 months old.
One baby, an orange shorthair, male.
One baby, a black longhair, male.
Ditto.
Ditto.
One baby, a tortoiseshell longhair, female.


SIGH.

Anyone want a kitten for Easter?

Chicken Bacon Ranch Pot Pie

Today, around 3 p.m., I was trying to figure out what to make for dinner. I don't usually plan ahead (I should, I know!) so it can be a little nerve-wracking to assemble a healthy meal for the family from whatever is on hand. But today, as I was pondering, I had a flash of inspiration. A very yummy dinner was the results.

Chicken Bacon Ranch Pot Pie
1 - 12oz package frozen chopped broccoli, thawed
1 1/2 cups cooked chicken, cubed or shredded (I'm sure canned would work, too)
4 strips of bacon, cooked & crumbled
1 can reduced-fat cream of chicken soup
1 cup fat-free sour cream
1/2 package Ranch dip mix
1 cup Pioneer Baking Mix
1 large egg
1/2 cup milk

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix together broccoli, chicken, bacon, and soup. In a small bowl, stir sour cream and Ranch dip mix until combined; add to the chicken mixture. Pour into a deep-dish pie plate or 2-quart casserole dish.

Whisk together baking mix, egg, and milk. Pour evenly over chicken mixture, and spread to edges. Bake at 400 degrees for 30 minutes.

(I would have a picture, but we dug into it as soon as it came out of the oven!)

Conspiracy

This conversation must have taken place before bedtime last night.

Wendy: David, I know we've been trying to keep Mama from sleeping, but it's been tricky. Maybe if we work together we can do it!

David: That sounds good; what do you have in mind?

Wendy: Well, I'll take the first shift. I'll stay awake until 11 p.m., then I'll make Mama and Daddy think that I've settled and gone to bed. Then after awhile, once Mama is finally asleep, I'll make my move!

David: So far so good...tell me more!

Wendy: I'm thinking that I'll get up about every five minutes between 1 a.m. and 2:30 a.m. I'll weep and whine, with some wailing thrown in for good measure. I've got all sorts of things I can complain about: it's too dark. I'm all alone in here. I have to potty. No, I don't have to potty!! I'm thirsty. I had a bad dream. I'm scared of the dark when I'm all alone. I want to sleep wif you. I need a tissue! Mama, MAMA...

David: Wow, you're good at this! Okay, you'll be up until 2:30 a.m....how about we let Mama get back to sleep, and I'll take over at 3 a.m.? I'll do what I'm best at: cry/screech/scream unless Mama is holding me. I won't let her know what is wrong. I won't be placated by my Blankie or a book or rocking. I will SCREAM and SCREAM and SCREEEEAAAAAM.

Wendy: Good idea! Nobody screams like you, that's for sure!

David: Once I've calmed down, I'll let Mama think the worst has passed...until she puts me back in my bed! Then I'll scream and screech some more until she thinks she's going to spend the rest of the night sitting on the floor by my crib, patting my belly and shushing me.

Wendy: But won't that put you to sleep?

David: Well, yeah, it will. But keeping Mama up until 4 a.m. is pretty good, don't you think? And we can always wake up again at 6:30 a.m., ready for another day of wrestling/bickering/whining.

Wendy: Okay, it's a plan! What's gonna work? TEAMWORK!

David: *evil chuckle*