More Dinner Conversations

Tonight, at dinner, I offered the Howler some onion--onion grown in our own garden.

She informed me (in a tone that implied I was insane), "Mommy, I already tried one of those onions. I don't think I want to taste it again."

I reminded her that we had two kinds of onion, and assured her that this was the other kind of onion.

She tilted her head, brought her finger to her lips and said, "Hmmmm. Let me think about this a minute.......................uhm ................NO."

Kevin almost shot pork chop out his nose.

Dinner Conversation

A week or so ago (before her vacation at Grandma's) the Howler announced, at dinner, that "one day Mommy wanted a little girl and that's why I'm here."

Being the horrid mother I am, I informed her, that, "no, not really. I didn't want a little girl OR a boy. I wanted a cat."

She was not in the least surprised or put off by that. She insisted that I did, indeed, ask God for a little girl--specifically, her Howlerness.

I had to be clear: She was not planned. She was a knock-me-to-the-floor unexpected surprise.A delightful surprise, but a surprise none-the-less.

She asked why I thought I wanted a cat.

"Because, my darling, I didn't know how wonderful YOU would be. I had never had a little girl, and Toadwort was just about grown up. I didn't know better. But now, my girl, I wouldn't change you being here for anything, anything, anything in all the world. You're better than anything I could have dreamed of."

This discourse came at during a particularly trying time of stubborness and defiance. I'm surprised I didn't tell her the gypsies would be here in the morning.

And she likes her version better. I think I do too.

Pah-Theh-Teek

The Howler, as you know is at Grandma's House this week.

We did not get permission from Large Marge for her to go.

The cat has gone from weird to depressed.

She goes outside, she comes inside. She goes outside. She comes inside. She is currently laying around, looking more like a bloated groundhog splatted roadside. She isn't even whining to be fed. She's not nagging. She's not following us around. She's not begging from the supper table.

She's not herself.

Kevin tried to pet her last night, and she acted like he was trying to squeeze the life out of her. She then followed him, from Kitchen to Livingroom, growling. If he stopped moving, her claws made for his feet. A blood letting to ease her pain, I assume.

Tonight, I think we need to have the Howler talk to her over the phone.

Honestly--that cat is pathetic.

Penance

The Toad gets to do penance for his sins.

He gets to spend quality time with me.

Okay, I did buy him a spiral notebook he doesn't need, and lunch. But he got to spend about 3 hours hanging out with me, driving me around to run my errands.

Lucky him.

We did laugh, and we did talk. Of course, he did get a few minor fits of the sullens, but he got over them. And he only mentioned leaving me behind once.

All-in-all, if we both get the at-home stuff done that we need to do by 5pm, it will qualify as an excellent day.

The Things Missed

My ILs usually miss all the big, fun, exciting things that happen in the Howler's life. They get to see video, or get phone calls, or see pictures, but they don't always have the opportunity to experience them first hand. Front row seats, if you will.

With the Howler's growing up comes the advantage of having her, parent-free, and for them to truly get the full effects of the Howler. It's a wonderful adventure for them.

This week, the Howler is visiting, and of course, in just the few short days she's been there, they've gotten the full Howler. The good, the bad, and the smelly. We're enjoying her vacation, and missing her terribly.

Anyway, we talked with the Howler Monday night, and after we got off the phone, my sister-in-law called back almost immediately and said, "Oh! The Howler has something to tell you that's very very important and couldn't wait."

The Howler gets on the phone and says, "Mommy, I have a loose tooth!" I, of course, ask if she's sure. Sure she's sure.

I get Kevin on the phone, and she tells him, more excited than when she told me. He, of course, asks if she's sure. Sure she's sure.

I don't know if the tooth will wait until we get her home. I am missing my baby's first loose tooth. But, I'm happy that my ILs are getting to experience at least one of my baby's firsts.

The Howler is very lucky to have such a family to love her. And so am I.

Howler-Less

We are Howler-less for the week.

She's been packed off to Grandma M's house for a week of Bible school, lovin' and huggin', and, I suspect, a kinder, gentler lifestyle.

I love these people. I love what they do for my daughter. Relentless as she is (think Tsunami in Princess sneaks), she is always just a bit sweeter, gentler and quieter after spending time there without her meddling parents.

She didn't want to go last night. She announced, very matter-of-factly, that she would not go. Period. No-way, No-how! Not even if it meant she couldn't see Tommy Too. (Actually, she said she didn't want to go because Tommy won't let her kiss him).

Never underestimate the Power of Your Mother--I simply bided my time (an hour or so) and then let her know that I *wa-as gonna* come to pick her up Friday night, sleep over and then come home, with her, on Saturday morning.

Suddenly, it was imperitive that she go. Aunt Joy was wanting to see her sooooooooooo very much. And Grandma, Grandma would cry.

I snookered a 5 year old into visiting her grandparents, aunts and cousins who adore her, and whom she adores.

She's not usually so easily persuaded.

I worry, now that she's there, and I (and my Power) are here, that she has some agenda we've yet to discover.