Meet Charlotte

This is Charlotte. Charlotte found us on Thursday morning while Elliott, Beth and I were on a walk. I was pushing Beth in the stroller while trying to keep Elliott from crashing into a bike on the trail when I heard a distinct MEOW. Suddenly, she came bounding out of the rocks and through the poison oak as if we were the saviors she had been waiting for. Apparently, we were.

I scooped her up and looked about for any other kittens or mama. It seemed as if she was the only one so rather than leave her there for the coyotes or hawks, I tucked her in my shirt, fleas and all, and maneuvered the stroller with one hand nearly 1 mile back home.

As you can see, her face is a little scuffed up. My guess is since we were along part of the bike trail where the road goes alongside, someone tossed her out rather than do their obligation to take care of her or find her a home. Turns out she is about 4 weeks old. She weighs about 1 pound and is as cute as the day is long.

The vet checked her out, killed the fleas (marvelous stuff the meds they have these days) and checked out her split lip. In a day, she has migrated from being bottle fed to lapping up kitten formula and kitten kibble. She has also maneuvered herself safely into our hearts.

Being that Thursday -- the day she came bounding out of the bushes towards us -- would have been my brother Barry's 51st birthday, she has a little special meaning for us. ...Gosh, there are a lot of things that have special meaning for us.

Welcome home, Charlotte. We love you already!

Rounding the Corner -- Potty-wise

Oh, thank Heavens! We are finally getting somewhere! It all started like this (which the parenting experts will most certainly admonish me for)...

On Thursday afternoon, I put Beth in underwear after her nap and spent the next 1 hour diligently asking her to sit on the potty. In fact, I put her on the potty three times. On the third time, she complained and said "no potty" with such vigor that I let her get up. She walked 10 feet over to the sliding glass door, turned and looked at me (right in the middle of my hands being dug into hamburger meat) and started to pee on the floor.

My first inclination was to throw raw hamburger meat at her but instead I ranted and stomped my feet while I washed the goo from my hands, then I ran over and grabbed her while the 2 cups of urine spilled onto a 10 foot swath between the door and the potty. Then I got mad.

Now, I know they tell you not to get mad a kid learning to potty but this was IT. Not only was she peeing on the floor but she was laughing about it. I went over to her potty jar (which is collecting coins for successful pottys so she can buy an adorable Elmo toy) and snatched a quarter out of it. "This is mine!" I said and dropped it into my pocket with great flourish. Then I took her out to the deck and hosed her off with the water from the faucet (which if it were me would have ticked me off but she thought that part was pretty fun).

I must have made an impression because she has asked to use the potty nearly every time since that little incident. Whew! At first I thought I had damaged her forever but now I think she got the point. And, if you know the women in my family...well, subtlety doesn't always cut it.

Potty Training In My Dreams...

You know you are obsessing over something when it pops up in your dreams. Let me set the scene...

We have two prolific cherry trees and I have been trying (now the third time) to get sweet cherry jam to jell so that I can preserve some of nature's bounty. Elliott, Mike and I have picked probably 3 lugs of cherries off our two trees. Well, that might be an exaggeration but they really are loaded!

With my third batch last night, I boiled the darn thing for 30 minutes, got it to the 220 degree stage, added more pectin, sterilized more jars (like I have time for THIS!). The darn stuff hasn't "set" yet again.

Anyway, somehow that combined with potty training "stewed" its way into my dreams last night. I can't recall all of it but somehow I was helping out in Elliott's first grade class by filing little vials with...can you guess what? PEE! The problem was that I had wet my pants and I couldn't fine enough of it so I think I was in the basement wringing out my shorts and trying to fill little tiny vials with...

Boy, am I messed up or what?