As Bill Murray Spaketh...

Mate took this picture last night of Chiquita, our ancient dog (or, as the vet called her, our 'bumpy, lumpy old gal') and Steve, our once-brash, cocky kitten who is now fat and psychotic and SO puzzled when her ginormous cat ass no longer hops as lightly on the bed as it did two months ago. (Newsflash--and it's taken me 43 years to figure this out in regards to my own body, Steve: IT'S BECAUSE YOU ATE ALL THE FUCKING FOOD IN THE HOUSE. Seriously, baby--we haven't forgotten to feed you yet. It's not going away.)

Anyway--have had precious little time to the computer without an irregular one-five minute interruption cycle, and so, no blogpost yesterday. (I'm serious. The thing is, when I sit down to the computer, I have a two minute 'surf' to sort of get myself into the 'this is what I need to do' frame of mind. Every time that 'surf' is interrupted, I have to START IT ALL OVER AGAIN. It's SOOOO frustrating. It's like, PUUULLLLLLEEEEEZZZZEE people, can't I just have ten lousy minutes IN MY OWN FREAKIN' HEAD? And it gets in the way of everything-- writing, blogging, blurbs... (Okay. Writing blurbs is like a fun brain puzzle--but it's also a tremendous attention suck. You're reading, comprehending, summarizing, teasing, commenting on, and word-crafting, all in about a total of 8-10 sentences. Seriously--it's GREAT brain magic--but it's surprisingly time consuming.) I'm excited today-- Squish actually goes to day care for four hours-- I'm like HUZZAH! I can actually STRING TWO THOUGHTS TOGETHER. Seriously-- with that much brain power, we may very well conquer the world right there. I'm sayin'.

(ETA-- and I must be desperate because her DCP called to tell me that there were camel races at her house today-- a meeting with a doula and painters and all sorts of shit, and I was like, "OKay. If you still want her, I'll bring her over." I know that's very non-understanding of me, but I've reached absolute n'th level of trying to get work done when Squish is at her clingy worst. I've actually got deadlines, darnitall!)

Zoomboy came and gave me a hug today, and I realized how improbable his little skinny body is--long, thin arms, big hands, big head, skinny torso and belly, and big flipper like feet. It was like folding a featherless bird into my embrace, and he just seemed so fragile. It was an odd moment--mama's odd little duck, I'm so protective. Of course, immediately after, I realized we were running low on his ADHD meds-- he's got five pills left after today, we don't give him any on the weekend, and it will take eleven days to get his refil. By my calculation, we're going to owe his teacher four days worth of letters of apology, and probably some knitted socks, because next week promises to be a doozy.



(The picture is from Squish's birthday party, but I think the angle gives you an idea of what I was talking about w/Zoomboy:-)

The kids went to a birthday party at 'Funderland' on Saturday--it was bright and windy, and I sneezed and coughed my way through it--just like Zoomboy angsted his way through it, because Squish was the actual one invited to the b-day party, and Zoomboy was crushed that she didn't want to go on the tetchy little rides with him. It was sad--but the people holding the birthday party were NEAT. I'm sorry-- I don't meet many hippies my age--it was very very fun. (Forty year old people saying things like 'rad', 'trippin' and 'hella'--I adored them all and was proud to be among them, if only for the span of a birthday party:-)

And as for the title? Does anybody remember that line from Ghostbusters? "Dogs and cats, living together..."

AS Bill Murray Spaketh, so mote it be:-)