That's fun to explain to a six year old.
I told him that they were having a surgery so they couldn't have babies and he asked if they were getting married.
No, I said, it's just in case they get out and find someone to marry, this way we will be sure they can't have babies.
And then he got all teary because they will never get to be mommycats.
Such is life with Jacob.
They were supposed to be spayed Tuesday, but there was an emergency at the hospital and they needed all able hands for a day-long surgery to save an animal hit by a car. The foster dad who raised them as newborns is attending the surgery, so I asked for pictures.
He's had them since Monday night and they were supposed to be home Tuesday night but instead they are on an extended vacation at his house and are coming home tonight.
That's a lot of days without kittens.
It's hard to get up in the morning without them forcing me out of bed to feed them.
The house painters are working on the house. Right now.
At least I'm guessing that's what they are doing in there right now.
It's a friend's dad who is doing it, so that makes everyone feel better about having unsupervised people in the house.
Recent events considered.
He and his partner, who seems normal and not creepy, did the living room, dining room, entry way, and kitchen ceilings and trim yesterday and it already looks 461 times better. Everything was freshly painted seven years ago, but a lot can happen in seven years.
I should have taken before pictures, but I didn't.
As God as my Witness, I shall never paint a whole house again.
The guys are doing it for a price that's way more than fair, but it still isn't cheap.
Totally worth every penny.
Don't tell them, but I would have paid almost twice the price.
Light green, light blue, and white. Those are the colors. Living and dining room (they are sort of one big room) are going from yellow to green. Celery-ish. You know, that color. The kitchen will stay blue but be much more fresher, the laundry will turn blue, the big bedroom will hopefully turn blue, and the small bedroom will probably turn blue too. Provided there is enough blue paint. If not, one of the bedrooms will be green. It's all very complicated, but not that big of a deal. Basically, I just want fresh paint, I don't want to buy more than necessary, I don't want giant tubs of paint kicking around the storage room, and I can't be bothered to stress out over the colors too much. It's just paint.
Some people? Freak the eff out about choosing paint colors. Match the walls to their daughter's eyes and their grandmother's throw pillows that are NOT. TO. BE. USED. and all kinds of crazy shiz. Not me. I like to channel my anxiety into other things. Like how Harrison Ford is holding up in this hot Philadelphia summer while making his new movie. I hope he doesn't get heat exhaustion. He isn't young anymore.
I haven't seen him, but I have seen Gary Oldman a couple times. He looks rough. I'm not sure if it's the heat or that's just the way he looks. Or maybe that's just his stunt double walking around. They have Harrison on lock down. Guards-outside-of-his-trailer sort of lock down. Gary seems able to free range without a handler.
Jake lost two teeth, and one went down the drain while he was trying to clean it. They're on the bottom, on either side of the front two that he lost in school last year. A top front one is loose too, but not too loose.
There is no more toothfairy in the belief structure of our house, nor Easter Bunny, which is nice. Santa is next of course. He has been questioning it since he was four. I think he's afraid he won't get anything if he doesn't believe.
Life is easier when your child loses faith in crap like that.
It doesn't make anything any less magical, despite what some people say.
I bought some used baby stuff at the consignment store on the corner yesterday. New online would have cost me $275 for the two things I bought. There it was $32. In the last week my belly exploded so I'm not so much in denial about the Impending Child anymore.
Denial is probably the wrong word.
Definitely the wrong word.
I've stopped worrying whether this kid will make it out alive or not.
That's where I'm at with everything.
We're pretty sure his name is Nicholas. Middle name probably Andrew.
A lady at work had to deliver her 24 week gestated baby a couple months ago. She lived for a few days, then they took her off support. The baby. Not the mother. There were lots of pictures. There were also lots of problems with the pregnancy that couldn't be solved. Seeing a born baby that looks just about exactly what my unborn baby looks like is very, um, huge.
I'm only 22 weeks along, but there was some growth restriction with her baby so mine is probably a bit bigger than this one was. Is. Will always be.
About a foot long and a pound heavy.
Like something you can eat at a tailgate.