Wednesday, February 9, 2005

His name is Rufus.

As in Rufus Wainwright, and if you don't know Rufus's music, you should.

Man, last night I had been around the kids for less than an hour before they were on my last nerve. I took them to the grocery store, and had to deal with Tommy having fits because he likes the kitty name Shadow, and then trying to navigate the grocery store with Tommy playing hide and seek, and God love Sam, but that child never. stops. talking. About just everything that comes into his head. (My dad is laughing right now-- my parents got their revenge times three). Then, Tommy was sulking to he wandered over and coaxed a free balloon from the florist. We go out to the car, and it's a freakin' blizzard outside, and Sam is helping me with the groceries, and accidentally bumps Tommy, who lets go of the free balloon-- major meltdown. I order them back into the store for another balloon, start the car, and sneak a few drags of a cigarette, crouched where Christian can't see me.

Things finally calmed down, and we had a nice evening-- Dereck is feeling a little under the weather now, and I fell asleep with the younger two (as per usual), and this time I got up when Sam beckoned me, tucked him in, and then told Dereck, who'd been lying on the couch, that it was time for bed.

We don't go to bed before midnight. Ever. But last night, we stayed home from Karaoke, and we were both tucked in and falling asleep by 10:30 p.m. I am over my cold now, but still sleepy-- but it's really amazing that Dereck went to sleep so early. We took kitty precautions by shutting Rufus out of our room, and he did not disturb us. He has figured out that he has a friend in Mr. Kitty and that Mr. Kitty will play with him. Mr. Kitty played with Boone too, the kitty we lost, whom we got from Don and Linda one year ago today.

Goldie is very excited about the new kitty. I asked Dereck, "Do you think she wants to eat him?"

"I think she wants to run after him very fast, and I don't think the kitty would have much of a chance."

So, while Goldie may not want intentionally to hurt Rufus, we have decided that keeping them away from each other for now is the best plan. I think they will be friends when they are older, but Rufus is barely bigger than my beanie babies (I introduced him to one this morning).

This morning was another cry-fest. Christian started crying because school wasn't cancelled (even though I told him last night that it hadn't snowed enough). Tommy started crying because he just hates school and having to do work all day. I just told him, "That is LIFE. Don't you think I get bossed around all day and have to work all day? Get used to it, get over it, and get dressed."

I realized that I hadn't exactly given him much in life to look forward to, so I added, "That is why we appreciate it so much when we do get to play."

I'm such a weanie-- but I am not caving on the No video games during the week rule. I am sorry his seven-year-old life is so hard. Tough.

THEN, I heard Sam crying in the bathroom! Good grief! "Great, now I have three out of three. What happened?"

"The kitty jumped up on me when I was on the potty, and I told him not to."

Sam had bare legs, and I think the kitty scratched him a little. But, honestly. I have a pretty compassionate, "Crying is okay," philosophy at my house, but these kids need to toughen up a leetle bit. I said, "Well, maybe I should just take him back to the shelter, if you can't deal with a little tiny cat."


Sam dried his tears, everybody dried their tears, got dressed, ate something, and we got to school on time.

But some days. Let me tell you. Some days are like nails down a chalkboard.

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