Meow

Eva is obsessed with all things kitty recently.  She will not respond to me when I call her Eva, only Kitty.  If I want her to come to me I have to say, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”  She gives me kisses by quickly licking my arm with the tip of her tongue, she calls me Mama Cat, and she wraps her fuzzy blanket around her shoulders and calls it her fur.   Her name is Rainbow Kitty.  Yesterday I called for her to come upstairs and get her hair combed.  She called back, “You mean I need my fur combed.”

Yes, that’s what I meant.  I find it all quite amusing.

I made a silly cat out of a tube sock last Halloween for a mutual activity and gave it to Eva.  She loved it until Aika ate it a couple of months ago.   Eva was devastated.  I’m so supportive of the kitty movement that I tried my hand at being crafty and made her another kitty today.  He did not turn out nearly as cute or as kitty-looking as her first kitty.  But, Eva thinks he’s magnificent.  Thank goodness for the standards of a 3-year-old.

Eva is somehow not at all frightened by the strange-looking fellow.  I can't say the same for me.  She was very concerned that Aika would also eat her new kitty because, “Dogs really love to eat kitties, Mama.”

Don’t worry, Eva.  There’s no way Aika knows that’s supposed to be a kitty.

Open Wide

My little lady went to the dentist for the first time this week.  I was slightly nervous about the visit for a couple of reasons.  First, Michael brushes her teeth every night.  I’m not saying he does a crappy job, but I’m not certain that the ADA would consider 17 seconds of teeth-brushing sufficient.  (Maybe I am saying he does a crappy job.)

You probably won’t believe this but I can be somewhat controlling and obsessive sometimes.  Shocking, I know, but it’s true.  Teeth-brushing is one of those obsessive areas for me.  It’s better that Michael takes on Eva’s teeth because otherwise I would be brushing her teeth every night until the sun came up the next morning.  Because I’m not allowed to micromanage the teeth-brushing routine, I was worried her mouth was going to be riddled with cavities. 

Secondly, Eva has been saying that she’s scared of everything lately. 

“I’m too scared to get out of the car.” 

“Your baby is scared of the shower.”

“Aika is scary.”

“Eating vegetables is spooky.”

I was nervous she was going to use her scared routine at the dentist.  When I told her she could ride up and down in the chair she said, “I’m too scared to go in the chair.  It’s too high.”  And then she immediately asked if we could go on a roller-coaster at Disneyland. 

Thankfully, she did great and she has no cavities.  (Exceptional job, Michael.  You’re not fired.)  I was having my appointment at the same time so she couldn’t see me but I could hear her.  She chatted excitedly and gave no resistance.  She was elated with her goody bag at the end of the visit.  It was a mighty success.

The hygienist said that Eva told her during their conversation that I’m 60-years-old.

Well, that’s good news for me.  I can buy adult diapers with impunity now. 

Backcountry

My friends coerced me into going on an overnight backpacking trip last weekend.  I don’t like backpacking.

My sister tried in vain many years ago to get me to fall in love with the sport.  I’m too smart for that.  However, since it has been over ten years since my last excursion, I decided to give it another shot.  So I did.

And I still don’t like backpacking.

We went to the Mt. Jefferson wilderness and hiked into Carl Lake.  There was an enormous forest fire in the area ten years ago and the devastation of that fire was still very evident.  It was really pretty in some parts and burned out in other parts.  We hiked 16 miles total so it wasn't a grueling adventure, but I just don’t get the appeal of schlepping through the wilderness with a backpack full of junk.  Seriously…what’s there to love about it?

Being dirty?

Urinating in the woods?

Sleeping on the ground?

Sweating like a horse?

Eating dehydrated food?

Being on the lookout for bears?

No, thank you.

There were a few things I enjoyed.  I enjoyed coming home to my little family and seeing the beautiful bouquet of flowers they had for me.  They even made a couple of flowers out of tissue paper – super cute.

I enjoyed recklessly eating Swedish Fish, swapping stories around the camp fire, and the delicious pizza we stopped for on the way home. I also really enjoyed seeing the beauty of God’s earth.  But I feel like there are easier ways to see nature. 

Like on TV.

Doppelganger

We went to the dollar store recently to poke around and see what new treasures China had sent us.  Eva doesn’t usually pester to buy anything, but on this particular evening, something wonderful caught her attention and she wanted it. 

I was nosing around the housewares aisle when she excitedly urged me to come with her to the toy section, where she and Michael had been spelunking for riches.  Eva pointed up to her discovery and exclaimed, “I want that silly mask!  So I can look like Daddy!”

I couldn’t possibly deny her the chance to impersonate her father.

Eva didn’t want to set her treasure down and wouldn't let the cashier put her silly mask in the bag.  She tenderly carried it to the car where she quickly put on the disguise and enthusiastically asked, “Do I look like Daddy now?!”

Why, yes.  Yes, you do.  The resemblance is incredible.

Clever

Now that’s how you play hide-n-seek.

On the delicates cycle, of course.

Excuse you!

I saw a recipe for Flubber online a few weeks ago and thought it would be something fun for Eva to try.  I purchased the ingredients for it, set them aside in the laundry room, and promptly forgot all about Flubber.  Today Eva had her friend Owen over for most of the afternoon and by the third hour of playing, they were restless and pestering each other relentlessly.

After an hour of refereeing two wailing kids, I was desperately trying to find something to occupy the little weasels before I rammed a blunt instrument through my eyeball.  I thumbed through my mental Rolodex for something to distract them and remembered the Flubber.

Genius.

Owen was smitten and jubilantly sat at the table playing with his Flubber.  Eva was a grump and kept whining that she wanted to watch a show instead.

Until…until…

Owen pushed his Flubber into a cup and it made a farting noise.  The fun had begun!  Eva instantly wanted to play with the flatulent Flubber.

They roared with laughter and I ran to the kitchen for another cup for Eva.  Over and over the Flubber put on his show.  Over and over the kids gleamed with amusement.

And I?

I laughed like a child.  Loudly.  Because fart noises are funny; especially when accompanied with the sweet sound of laughing children.  I laughed so hard my eyes watered.  After every farting sound the kids would exclaim, “Excuse you, Mr. Flubber!”

It was delightful.  Eva couldn’t wait to show Michael.

Fast-forward a few hours and Eva is still making her Flubber flatulate and exclaiming, “Excuse you, Mr. Flubber!” 

The hilarity of intestinal distress without the stench.  Perfecto!