Today...

I made a second pot of coffee, because I need it. It's decaf, but I'm hoping I can fool my body into thinking it's regular.

I put my son in time-out at 6 a.m.

I put my daughter in time-out at 7 a.m.

I put my son in time-out again at 8 a.m.

I put my daughter in time-out again at 9 a.m.

I put my daughter in bed at 10 a.m.

I am having people over for dinner. My house is a mess. I have no idea what we're eating.

I want to go back to bed.

...but on the plus side, my son has really cute feet. Fat, round, yummy baby feet. And everything is going to be okay.

Weekend "Highlights"

I used the quotation marks on purpose, people. There were good things about the weekend - spending time with family, good on-the-road conversation with James, and some yummy food - but overall the weekend was not a success. "Vacation" it was not. I hope this doesn't sound like a litany of complaints, but I could use some venting time.

1. We stayed with James' grandparents, who are lovely and funny and in their mid-80s. However, our room was right next to their room, so every toddler screech & squeal & scream made us cringe. Also - their guest bed is the most uncomfortable bed I've ever experienced. If there had been enough floorspace, I would've slept down there with Wendy, and I'm not even kidding.

2. This was our first trip with Wendy sans Pack N Play. I bought her a special sleeping bag (hot pink outside, lime green floral print inside), so that we could train her to use it as her travel bed. It didn't work very well. The only way we got her to sleep at all was to lay with her in the cramped floorspace and sing her to sleep. This took more than an hour for each nap & bedtime. That's a lot of Twinkle Twinkle and Trust & Obey.

3. Toddler-friendly food is hard to come by when you're traveling. How many chicken nuggets, slices of cheese, and bananas can a girlie eat without suffering dire digestive problems? Apparently about four days' worth. We were gone five days. You do the math. I'll plan ahead next time.

4. James' grandparents were born in 1923 and 1924, respectively, and have lived in the Deep South all their lives. Can you imagine the extent of the political-incorrect-ness of their conversations? Yeah. It started with Grandpa saying that Grandma had a "cripple tag" for parking in the "cripple spots" right up by the door of the restaurant. Hmm.

5. Wendy, who has a sweet temperament and is an easy-going girl, decided to cut three teeth at once during our trip. Instead of our happy, playful, silly girl, we got a stomping, flouncing, shrieking, fit-throwing, incredibly loud BRAT. It was like seeing myself at 13 in the body of my 22 month old daughter. She's always been a shrieker, but she really pulled out all the stops this weekend. I would never have thought such a tiny body could produce such a high, drawn-out, LOUD screech.

It was bad enough that a detached part of my mind thought, "This is probably how people can snap and beat their kids." Don't worry, I didn't, but I could totally see that kind of behavior pushing someone right over the edge...it was awful.

6. On the way home yesterday, we stopped at two different mechanics to have the van checked out, because we were afraid it was about to leave us on the side of the road in 100+ degree heat. Both mechanics said the starter was going bad, but that it would most likely make it home OK. And we offered up some serious prayers of thanks - we did indeed make it home.

7. James dropped Wendy and I off at Barnes & Noble in Montgomery, AL, to spend time there when he took the van to the second mechanic. Wendy was in her stroller, and as I was about to reach for the door of the store, I saw someone coming out, so I backed off. This young man pushed through the door, narrowly missing the stroller, without holding the door - he just let it slam behind him. I was sufficiently frazzled to meet rudeness with rudeness, so I called out, "Thanks for holding the door for us!" He didn't even turn around, and said, "You're welcome."

That young man may have been in his 20s and over six feet tall, but I imagine if his Momma knew that he had acted that way, she'd have a piece of his hide.

8. And now...we're home...and thus ends my venting. We will enjoy our two weeks at home, and then James and I will appreciate our anniversary vacation so much more - it won't be anything like this past weekend!

Follow-Up to Free Kittens

So. We got home from church tonight around 7 p.m., and it was dark and very rainy. James was backing the van into the driveway when the headlights illuminated a small, wet form laying on the grass by the road. Uh oh.

Yes, the kitten that the neighbor "wanted to keep" had been hit, and was laying in a mud puddle, half-frozen but still (barely) alive. I told James to go get the neighbor to see what she wanted to do, as I was picking the kitten up to assess the damage. He got the neighbor, and her response was, "Well, I don't want to see it. It's just a cat." No questions about how bad it was, no offers to take responsibility, no nothing. "It's just a cat." What, so she would've just left it to die in the cold, wet mud puddle??

I brought the kitten inside, and dried it off and warmed it up. It was immediately apparent that it wasn't going to live; its back was broken and its abdomen was filling with blood. If I was still working, I would've rushed it to the clinic to put it out of its misery. Instead, knowing kitty wouldn't make it to an emergency call at the vet 15 miles away, I cuddled her in a towel, rubbing and cooing until she died in my arms.

I am so mad.

Free Kittens

Grrr. I'm getting quite frustrated about my neighbors and their animal situation. Now everyone knows that I have too many pets. I have five indoor cats and a small dog. Our neighbors have, to my estimation, 6 dogs and a cat that pops out kittens like nobody's business.

Since we moved in, I've been taking care of the cat. I don't really mind caring for one outdoor cat; she keeps other strays away and probably keeps our snake & mouse population under control. When we moved in, I assumed she was just a neighborhood stray, because she was skin & bones & dry fur. After feeding her & petting her for a few months, she turned into a beautiful, friendly girl. HOWEVER - they neighbors claim she is their cat. They don't feed her, they don't take care of her, and they certainly haven't gotten her spayed.

I put a sign out today for "Free Kittens." We've had Matilda's latest litter living on our front porch for almost 4 months, and the neighbors have done nothing about it. So the neighbor girl comes over with a friend to look at the kittens, then says, "Oh my gosh, those are my cat's kittens. My mom wanted to keep the orange one." *grrr* I was very nice to the girl; it's not her fault, after all. I asked her to please have her mom let me know if there were any others she wanted to keep.

Inside I was fuming. You claim this cat - that you don't even feed, for heaven's sake - and her kittens. If it wasn't for me doling out the kitten food, these poor kittens and their mother would've been severely malnourished during the drought this year. And now they want to keep one of the kittens, one of the female kittens? I can just predict what will happen next spring...Matilda with show up with her first litter around April 1st, and this little orange kitten will show up with her first litter on April 2nd. We'll have two momma cats and eight kittens on our porch. Where does it end??

I haven't even started on the dogs. The dogs that roam all over our yard doing their business, the dogs that tear into our trash, the dogs that bark all night outside our windows. The dogs that are chained to trees for their entire lives, only interacting with a person when the boy goes to feed them once a day. When he remembers.

I think what bothers me most is not knowing what to do. I feel like I have to feed Matilda and her babies, because I couldn't stand seeing them starve. But how many litters are we going to have to raise and give away?? Do I try to get Helen to spay Matilda and whatever other female cats she's keeping? Do I sneak off and get it done myself, knowing that Helen will never do it? And what about the dogs?

Any suggestions? Anybody want a kitten?