The Katie Chronicles: My Grandpig at the Kitty Rodeo Edition

Katie loves cats, so her giving ours lots of love and attention isn't at all unusual. Recently, however, it went beyond affection, progressing more in the life coaching direction. I was sitting in our living room, minding my own business, when I looked up from whatever I was doing to see my youngest child lecturing Tulip the kitty about being 56 in human years and still living at home. 

Tulip was held like a baby, gently held accountable for her failure to launch into productive adulthood, and sent on her way, but not before I grabbed a photo to document the occasion. You can see by her expression how she feels about this little intervention, but after documenting Katie's lecture, I found another possible source of her feline frustration: Proof that she was ridden by a pig earlier in the day. I unearthed evidence of the kitty-pig rodeo action as I was scrolling through my phone's photos and discovered that Katie had done her version of photo-bombing, where she leaves these little pictorial presents for me. (She does this every so often). Katie told me I couldn't delete the photo because it was a picture of my grandson, Wilbur, who's chilling there with Tulip. Katie then told me that after Wilbur rode Tulip, Katie found him playing with my phone, trying to take a selfie. When Katie grabbed the phone from Wilbur, the story went, he snapped the action shot seen below. So not only do I have a trans-species grandchild I didn't know about, he is apparently quite mischievous. Later, Katie brought Wilbur out of her room, saying she had talked with him and that he wanted to apologize to me for using my phone without permission, which he proceeded to do, with Katie translating, as I apparently don't speak stuffed pig. I think the larger lesson here is that if you want to hang with us, you just have to be prepared for whatever comes. Meeting grandkids you didn't know you had, pigs riding cats, talking stuffed animals, interspecies life advice from a 14-year old....all on the table.

The Katie Chronicles, Soup Kitchen for Homeless Snails Edition

During these crazy times, we all have to find sources of light and I'm lucky to live with mine. Katie discovered we have snails in the backyard so she decided to make them a habitat, complete with a tiny house, a couch, shell bathing pools, fresh zucchini (she researched it), and a place to bury themselves in moss and wood chips. Their temporary home is a basket but she'll soon be moving them to a former gecko habitat. After putting the finishing touches on Snail-a-palooza, she decided to make tomato soup because her braces get tightened tomorrow and she knows she'll want soft food. That's not unusual but then I walk in the kitchen to see how she’s protecting her eyes from onion tears. Her sweetness and weird-yet-practical nature are definitely making me smile today.

The Katie Chronicles, the Birds and the Bees, Fish-Style Edition.

Well, I’ve ruined Katie’s life. Today we were watching a nature show about a zoo where they were separating out two fish from the others because they were having trouble breeding, giving them a little privacy and maybe a little Marvin Gaye playing nearby. Katie and I started discussing fish reproduction. Our kids have known for a long time where babies come from and how they’re made, but she seemed skeptical of the fish method of baby-making, so I asked her if she remembered Finding Nemo, which she watched about 3,742 times as a preschooler. “Katie, remember the scene where Nemo’s mom and dad swam down to the cave and watched the eggs? And then the mean fish ate all of them except for Nemo? How do you think the baby fish got in those eggs? Moms release the eggs and the dads fertilize them and then that makes babies. I’ve always wondered how the fish sperm doesn’t wash away before it can fertilize the eggs.” She gave me a horrified look as the reality of her beloved Nemo being made via fish sex emerged in her mind, apparently for the first time. I was surprised that she was surprised. Did she have some sort of mental image of the Immaculate Conception for him? So Nemo was a Jesus fish? And we thought he was a clown fish. Anyway, she buried herself in her blanket and screeched in mock agony. “I can’t believe you told me that! You ruined my life!” Mission accomplished I guess. If you haven’t given your kids at least a couple of things to discuss in therapy, have you even parented? #MarlinAndCoralDidTheDeed

Marvin Gaye's Let's Get it On 

Marvin Gaye - Lets get it on

The Katie Chronicles, Portrait of the List-Maker as a Young Girl Edition.

We are cleaning out drawers and closets as we slowly reassemble our house from the ongoing flood repairs and I came across a treasure chest of memories from Katie’s youngest years. First up is evidence that she is her mother’s daughter. She made a to-do list when she was 7 and here’s a selection of important tasks for the modern first grader, circa 2014:
Call Chandler to see if she can play yes or no
Play in my cichin [her play kitchen]
Ask to go to SKZ [Sky Zone, a trampoline place]
Read a book
Do mathe
Cook with mommy and dad
Rite a note
Eat peanuts or nutse [nuts?]

She also wrote a note to Rome that same year that says “Thank you for ever thing! Dear Daddy you are the best daddy ever. You give me ever thing that I need. Thank you for:
Taking cer of me
Giveing ever thing I need
And all of the above.” She also drew a picture of both herself and Rome (I know because she labeled the two people) and they are both giant heads with stick legs coming out of their heads. No bodies or arms, just legs and heads but they do have hair and facial features, so there something.

I was pretty ruthless in tossing a lot of the paper items I had kept but a few things made the “keep” pile and these are definitely two of them.

The Katie Chronicles, Bad Boys (and Girls) Edition

One of the subjects at dinner recently  that about any form of punishment so don’t put that on your application to become an ambassador or anything. We emphasized how mind-numbing and painful to the wrist it was. Katie disputed this and said she could do it, no problem. She even had a strategy to keep from being bored. We said “challenge accepted.” So after dinner she got out some paper and started writing. She literally stopped before I finished writing this post. Apparently parents do know something after all. We know just the one thing but I’ll take it.

The Katie Chronicles: The Subliminal Eye Roll Edition

The rest of the fam was gone on a Scout camping trip all weekend and they got home mid-afternoon. When they walked in, I was chopping onion for chili and listening to music as I usually do when I cook or clean or walk or drive or...anyway, Mary J. was on the music shuffle telling me to Work That, and so I showed them how happy I was that they were home by taking her advice. I worked that, by doing a little stove dancing while I put the onions in the chili. Ethan was first in the door and he instantly picked up what I was laying down. We did a little family twerking in the kitchen before he took his campfire-scented stuff and self down to the basement. Katie was next through the door and I got a semi-eye roll. No smile or anything. Ahh, the pre-teen years. She may not have actually rolled her eyes but I felt it in her vibe. No mother-daughter working it ensued. Sad face.  My delicious “welcome home” mom moves gave my husband a big smile, but he didn’t work it with me either. In fairness, he’s not a dancer and Katie said her throat hurt, but still. Jesus said a prophet has no honor in his home country and so it is in my house. I’ll be like Jesus and shake the dust off my yoga pants and live to groove another day. At least Ethan gets me.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AXAK9nVBI3M

The Katie Chronicles, Tin Grin Edition

Yesterday, I took a reluctant Katie to get a consultation with her new orthodontist. It included a cost estimate and all I can say is I’ll really miss those little luxuries like food and shelter for the next 24 to 30 months. Just kidding. It wasn’t that bad. Actually it was better than I thought it would be. During the course of the conversation, I learned a random fact and you know how I love those: Orthodontists have to do a 3 year residency after dental school. Three years? Who knew? (Katie’s ortho is a Tar Heel, apparently). I was also reminded how odd it is that orthodontists use the word “appliance” when talking about the various devices that straighten and correct teeth. You want to put an appliance in my child’s mouth? Like, a Maytag? Nope, Katie has to have this thing called a carriere and it’s a bite correcting appliance that’s like a retainer with rubber bands. She’s not looking forward to it but when she remembered the childhood stories I had told her about The Great Headgear Debacle of 1982, she got more positive. So the bite correction is the first stage and then in about 4 to 6 months it’s brace face time! She was relieved about not having to get molds of her teeth made with that gross, squishy stuff — it’s all 3D imaging now, of course — and excited about getting rainbow rubber bands on the braces, so at least there’s that.