3 years old

Here it is over 3 weeks past my son's third birthday and I'm finally getting around to posting.  I think I've decided that I can't keep up with the monthly updates, and will just have to move to yearly from here.  It was a good run while it lasted Logan!  ;-)

So what can I say about Mr. Logan?  I say it every time (and I'm sure at some point I'll stop saying this), but this is now my favorite age!  I recently received my monthly newsletter from Babycenter about Logan titled:  Your Little Chatterbox

And oooohhhh, how true that is!

I would say that's the biggest change and development in Logan overall.  Every minute, every hour, every day, every month - he picks up additional words that just crack us up.  We have no idea where he hears them half the time but his ability to immediately recognize meaning and patch these new words into sentences (usually correctly!) is astounding.

Mommy, can I have some juice?

Sure.  (pours a glass of juice)

But I want some sugar in it.  I want A LOT of sugar!

(We normally add half water to his juice, because we've told him the juice has too much sugar in it... so our best guess is, he now thinks water is also called sugar... *shrug*)

He's also VERY interested in "bad words".  Everything is now a bad word.  And, he's quick to let you know it.

No Mommy, "fine" is a bad word.

Mommy, "I don't know" is a bad word.

Mommy, "stop that" is a bad word.  Don't say that.

Just the other day, while I was in the kitchen cooking our holiday dinner, Logan was playing in the living room with Callum.  I could hear Logan directing and talking to Callum nonstop - telling him what to do, what to play with, what to look at.  I then heard Callum whine - and I heard Logan say something about "that" being "his toy" and Callum couldn't play with it.  I yelled from the kitchen - Logan, you need to share your toys with Callum.

Logan yelled back, "But, it's not a party in here!"

I guess we're only sharing toys at parties now.

With all the energy Logan has day in and day out, he's often times too busy playing to pay attention or listen to his Mom and Dad.  I can't tell you how many times we have to tell him to listen to us, and when he's not listening, he gets a timeout. I fear it's going to be a constant battle with him - to pay attention and listen to what we have to say or are telling him to do.  It's also kicking us in the ass - since there are times where Jon or I have work to do, or chores to do, or heaven forbid, want to engage in a conversation between each other.  It's usually at that very moment, that Logan tries to interrupt, yelling at one or both of us:

Mommy!  Daddy!  Mommmmmmmm!  Listen to me!!

And then the guilt sets in.  ;-)

A few weekends ago, I needed to stop by the pharmacy on our way home from swimming class.  Logan was full of energy and happy to be out of the house.  While at the checkout stand, he was busy using the shopping cart as his personal jungle gym, crawling up and down and in and out while I'm trying to pay and get the hell out of there before he breaks something (or a limb).  He's talking nonstop the entire time - pausing between jumps and climbs to wave and bellow out "Hi!" at the top of his lungs at each new person who walks by or enters the store.

The cashier (probably a grandmother herself), was laughing and commented to me, "He sure does have a lot of energy, doesn't he?"  To which I responded, "Yep, and this is after just finishing up a half hour swim class!"

She was a little surprised.

Because he's running around so much, I guess it makes sense that he'll fall or hit his head from time to time.  The nice thing is, we have a tough little boy.  Often times, immediately after bonking his head on something, he'll yell out to me:

I'm okay Mom!

and then return to his playing.  Before I even get a chance to look up.

It's one of the many reasons why I love that Logan attends preschool actually.  He's outside, playing in the yard, and running off this endless energy, at least 4-5 times a day.  I could never keep up with him on a regular basis on my own!

As I was getting him dressed today, to get ready for the movies with Daddy (Jon's taking him to see Tangled again, since the last outing with me he didn't fare so well), all he wanted to do was climb and jump on me and tackle me to the ground.

Mom, let's tackle and punch ourselves!

Punch ourselves?  No, we don't punch people.

Yes we do!  You have to punch nicely.  Daddy punches nicely.

Daddy punches nicely?

Yeah, because we're tackling.

Oh I see.

I later told this to Jon, who then laughed asking Logan to show him how to punch nicely - at which point Logan socks the shit out of Jon's chest.  Yes.  Nicely.  I guess we need to work on the meaning of that word some more.  (or perhaps, get him to learn not to punch at all?!)

Another one of Logan's latest interests is peeing and pooping.  Not the potty training stuff - he's a master at that (to the point that half the time, we don't even bother helping him in the bathroom since he does it all himself!).

No, it's the TOPIC of talking about peeing and pooping.  Really, I thought that we'd have a few more years before this started.  But, I guess it hits at a much earlier age.  In fact, at a recent neighborhood holiday party we went to, the "older" 6-8 year old boys that Logan was infatuated with and following around nonstop, thought the little 3 year old who wouldn't stop talking about peeing and pooping was REALLY WEIRD.

It usually goes something like this:

Mom, I'm going to pee on you!  

Callum, I'm going to poop on you!

Followed by something like this:

And that, my friends, is the epitome of sibling love right there.

Carrots

Today I suggested Jon feed Callum some jarred food, to see if that would satiate him a bit more and help him sleep through the night (he's been doing great with the rice cereal but frankly, we're at that point where we'll try anything to get him to sleep a bit longer!). So, we decided on carrots as his first real "solid" food!


Callum seemed to enjoy the new taste. Jon was able to get through a little less than a jar before Callum had enough - he was QUITE the mess afterward! But, he was all smiles. Later this evening, I gave him the rest of that jar, plus TWO MORE JARS. The kid was a fiend and just kept on going. I was thinking this would be GREAT news for tonight - however, after he was done, he proceeded to have a massive poop which spilled out all over his high chair seat (incidentally, Logan was yelling to me from the bathroom about the massive poop he just had himself. Jon was conveniently NOT home but at a rugby game....) *sigh*


Callum passed out soon after and now I'm wondering if that big poop just made some more room in his little tummy which I was hoping to fill with the carrots. Hopefully he won't wake up so hungry and wide-eyed tonight. *shrug* I guess we'll see.

Happy Friday the 13th!

We're finally on the road to LA for the weekend, after a long night and morning. Logan was having trouble pooping again and ended up sleeping in bed with us because he wasn't feeling well. So the morning we spent packing and helping him poop basically. He finally did (as did his brother, whee!) and then Jon had an emergency call from work to deal with.

Anyhoo, as you can see, Logan is exhausted and ready for his nap (Callum is already asleep, thank goodness), but not before a little Finding Nemo "fishies" fix on the iPad first. ;-)

32 months old

One thing that irritates both Jon and I to no end is whining. From anyone - child or adult. Neither of us have the patience for it I'm afraid. To say this past month has really tried our patience is an understatement, as Logan has picked up whining with a vengeance. :(

We'll say, "Logan, please stop whining."

And he'll whine back, "But I'm not whining!"

*sigh*


Logan continues to mature day by day (baby whining aside). Some of the biggest changes for him this last month happened in the bathroom. He now, often times, runs into the bathroom all on his own, pulls down his pants/shorts and underwear, and sits down to pee (he's not yet able to pee standing up, thank goodness!). He still needs a little help pulling his underwear and pants/shorts back up, but he's getting there (sometimes he'll walk out of the bathroom calling for my help, with his shorts halfway up his butt. hehe)


While he continues to have constipation battles (ever since he was an infant really), he's now pooping in the potty too! This was a biggie for us, since we really struggled with getting him to understand that he needed to poop in the potty rather than his diaper/underwear. He really resisted us for a long time on this one, but has finally seemed to get over that hump. THANK GOD as my laundry load lightens just a little.


He has also started waking up in the middle of the night, asking to go potty, and just recently, we started putting him to bed at night diaper-free. We're only a couple of nights in, so it's hard to say if we're officially finished with diapers, but so far so good! Let's hope the trend continues since it is soooo much nicer having just one kid in diapers to deal with rather than the two! ;-)


I consciously decided against packing any milk bottles for Logan, for our trip to Texas. I just didn't want to deal with it, and I figured it might get him out of the habit of asking for a bottle every morning. The plan seemed to work - he went without a milk bottle (and didn't seem bothered in the least bit!) the entire time. However, the MINUTE we got back home, he woke up demanding his daily morning milk. I was a little bummed - it's just one more thing I'd like to move past, frankly. Still, he's doing better. Now he only asks for his milk every once in awhile rather than every. single. morning while practically still laying in bed. We have a couple more trips coming up both this weekend (LA) and next week (Hawaii - woo!) - and I plan to stick the course and not pack any milk bottles then too. We'll see how he does. :)


You can clearly see my boy getting older, and it makes me both happy and sad. He loves to sing his ABCs and point out letters and count 1-2-3-4-7-go! And, with numbers comes the all important proud moment of telling everyone how old he is. He's usually accurate - holding up two fingers while telling you he's two. But, every now and then he'll either hold up three fingers or say "free" when you ask him how old he is. I don't blame him though, I used to tell people I was older than I really was for a loooong long time. Funny how I don't do that so much anymore.

But probably the change that has strangely, impacted me the most, is his words. His new found words. His ultra hip, very 8 year old and not at all 2 year old words.

Logan, would you like some juice?

Sure, Mom.

A good kind of mistake

While Logan's been waking up each morning with a dry diaper, and even waking up in the middle of the night asking to use his potty, I still haven't been brave enough to try a night without diapers yet. I'm not really sure why - I guess I'm not ready to clean up after bed wettings just yet. I've also been more concerned with getting him to poop in the potty first - which I'm happy to say, he's doing regularly now - yay!

This morning we discovered Logan still in his underwear from the night before. I guess in a (rare - ha!) blurry eyed Baby Mama moment, I had forgotten to change him into a night time diaper before bedtime. WHOOPS. Luckily, he did great and didn't have an accident! I'm not sure if we'll try it again tonight - but it's nice to know we're on our way. I guess all we needed was a little trial like last night to convince me to take the plunge.

X-Rated

Callum has this habit where he wraps his arm/hand into my shirt and pulls it over his face while nursing or sleeping (don't worry, he's just sleeping here!). It's pretty funny.

Is this a sign of a "player-to-be"? ;-)

Editor's Note: I forgot to mention Callum's conked out here after a traumatic morning, where he decided to shit so hard he blew out his diaper, onesie and the side of his car seat....aaaaand then fell asleep.

I'll spare you any details or pics ;-) but let's just say I cut my PT appointment short, raced home, took apart the car seat, climbed into the tub with the little guy and proceeded to wake him up (and piss him off) while hosing everything down.

Yay! for blowouts. Not a part of parenting I enjoy.

Pooped out. Literally.

It's like Callum's car seat is his morning coffee. No more than five minutes after loading him up and buckling him in, he takes a nice stinky shit. *sigh*

A long night

Returning to Parenting a Newborn land, I've noticed many more of our texts now revolve around poop and sleep updates.


Last night, Baby Callum became extremely fussy. Inconsolable. Screaming in pain. We have no idea why - it is SO. UNLIKE. HIM. :( Our best guess was he had some bad gas and constipation - since he hadn't pooped all day/night. It made for a verrrrry long night. He slept about 3 hours on my chest, but other than that, he was literally awake and crying most of the night.

It was awful. For us. And for him. :(

Jon went out this morning to get some Mylicon and Culturelle to help with his stomach. Whether it helped or not, I'm not sure, but he finally did poop this morning (news for celebration, ala text to Jon) and then napped about 4 hours which was GREAT since it meant I was able to sneak in an hour nap in there too. He had another decent poop in the afternoon and has been fairly good most of the evening (although, his fussiness is starting to come out again so I'm a little worried that we may not be totally in the clear yet).


I'm praying we get our easy going happy mellow baby back very soon. For his sake, and ours. *yawn*

At least it just looks like a mustard stain.

We can't quite remember if Logan pooped this much, but Callum has been a little play doh factory, producing multiple poops in a single session (his favorite time being the middle of the night when we are half asleep and not always paying attention).

I can't tell you how many more times I'm now running the laundry, or have changed our bedsheets, since Callum was born. It's ridiculous.

Oh yeah, and Happy Mother's Day. ;-)

Pulling out the pull ups

Tonight when we got home I needed to do a bit more work, so while I typed away on the laptop, Logan played with his cars next to me. Before long, he started trying to poop - and without me asking or prompting - he looked up at me and said "Logan going poopy! Potty! Potty!" and started walking back to his bathroom.

I jumped up, eager to support him in any potty training he does on his own. I stripped him down and left him sitting on the potty while I went back to finish up some emails (he usually sits on the potty for quite awhile). In a few minutes I hear him yell from the bathroom "All done!" and next thing I know, he's walking back down the hallway toward me, pulling up his jeans (without any diaper on).

So, I steer him back around so we can clean him up and get a diaper on him. I took a look in the potty, not expecting to see anything but whaddya know, he had gone pee! We dumped the pee down the toilet (he LOVES to flush the toilet) and seeing as how he pulled up his jeans on his own, I opened up a bag of pull-up diapers I had bought awhile ago (just to be ready). I showed him how to put the pull-up diaper on, and pull it up on his own.

We moved back into the main room where I did a few more emails and Logan picked up his playtime right where he had left off (picking up cars, putting them in a tupperware box, then dumping them back onto the floor again). Once more, he started doing his poop-grunting dance, only this time we didn't make it back to the potty in time. Still, he insisted on sitting on the potty again anyway.

So, I stripped him down again and sat him on the potty. And before you know it, he's going pee again!

With another pee earlier this morning after he woke up, that counts for THREE successful pees on the potty in one day. Pretty cool. :)

Mama's Boy

Hey Logan, let's go change your diaper.

No no no no.

C'mon - you're pretty stinky.

No.

*pause*

I love you Mommy!

Ha. Nice try kid.

A testament to swim diapers

My little anal dude, takes after his mother. It doesn't matter if he destroys them right after, he's always sure to line stuff up perfectly first. :)

Tonight was - interesting. Since it's Tuesday, that means swim class. Unfortunately, Logan's taken a step back in terms of swim class, not enjoying very much of it, clinging to me the entire time as if he's going to D-I-E or as if I'm going to let him D-I-E. It's particularly frustrating when he swam like a fish during his last set of classes. :(

But tonight I knew something was off. More than usual. Most of the time Logan just lets his legs fall limp, not wanting to kick when I ask (even though he totally knows how to!). About 20 minutes into tonight's lesson however, instead of falling limp, his legs stiffened up as he pulled his feet into his chest. I was a total idiot, didn't pay attention to the signs, and instead tried to "kick" his legs for him (moving them up and down).

He started to whine, resisting my help. I looked down only to see Logan's infamous beet red face squished up into a painfully concentrated expression as he worked on a massive poop.

Right in the middle of class.

Right in the middle of the pool.

CRAP.

I quickly assessed which side would be easiest to clamor out of as my son clinged to my neck, scrunched up more than ever.

I turned to our teacher, handed her Logan as I climbed out of the pool, asking her to hand him to me once I was out. She was completely lost until I hissed "He's pooping!", as if to say Lady if you don't act fast and help me out, we may have a nice mess on our hands!

She got the point, helped us out, and I dashed us to the locker room as fast as I could.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find my wipes in the swim bag (I found them later at the very bottom of course!) so I had to wet paper towels to clean up Logan's poor bottom. That actually wasn't as bad though, as trying to peel off a wet swimsuit that has a bigass piece of poop stuck in it, all the while trying not to get any poop on you, the kid, or anywhere else - it was a comical feat and let's just say I was too embarrassed to look up at all the other moms in the locker room who were probably staring at me in horror as my son stood on the changing table buck naked with bits of poop still stuck to his cheeks.

I had actually contemplated not going to swim class at all tonight since I had a major headache (after a long all-day training class), I still have to pack for my trip out tomorrow and take care of a million other chores before the morning. Had I gone with my gut, I wouldn't have been using makeshift wipes in a public restroom.

It's too bad I don't drink, because I'm pretty sure a big glass of Pinot would be perfect right about now.

I guess I'll have to make do with a few Ghiradelli dark chocolates instead. ;-)

Loss of Appetite

This morning was like no other. Busy as usual, getting everyone in the house up and ready for another day.

Only, Jon wasn't here to lend a helpful hand like normal. And, my parents needed a ride to the airport. And today was trash and gardener day - which meant in addition to making sure the trash containers were set out at the curb, I was also running around like mad in the backyard collecting all the dog poop to throw away before our gardeners arrived.

And, because I guess I get a thrill out of doing several things at once, I had my phone up to my ear, chatting away with Jon, updating each other on all the latest as I was juggling several balls.

That is, until everything stopped in slow motion the minute I looked down to pick up another pile of poop, and saw a hundred squirmy white little worms wiggling about.

Ummmmmmm. GROSS.

Seriously - it was disgusting. I'll take vomit or diarrhea or pee-stained couches any day of the week over this.

The rest of my day I thought about nothing else but worms. Forget about my parent's flight and loading their luggage into my car and instructions on which plants to water when. Forget about chatting it up with Logan's teachers during drop off and wishing them all a great day. Forget about closing out another fire-drill at work and keeping the execs happy.

And forget about lunch.

I called the vet's office. From my description on the phone, they think one of the dogs has roundworms. But, just to be sure, I took a fecal sample in for them to analyze. We'll get the definitive results back sometime tomorrow and go from there. It's better to figure out which worm we're dealing with so they know which meds to treat with. I also called Lola's oncologist to make sure she has the all clear to take meds, even though I'm pretty sure it's Odin who's infected. They said it should be totally fine. And, because some types of worms can transmit between both dogs and cats, we will probably need to treat the cats too.

We also need to keep a close eye on Logan. Kids are at a greater risk for catching worms - mostly because they aren't as diligent as adults when it comes to washing their hands. They also don't pay attention to what they're touching! Luckily, I've been a drill sergeant about washing Logan's hands lately and, he doesn't play in the backyard (where the dogs poop). So the chances of him getting sick are pretty slim.

Once we figure out what we're dealing with, we'll have to administer several rounds of meds. And, because we don't have enough on our plate as is, we need to quarantine the dogs and convince them to poop on concrete, so that we can quickly clean it up and BLEACH the shit out of it afterward.

Sounds like fun, doesn't it?

Potty Time!

I noticed Logan trying to poop this morning so I offered to sit with him on his potty. He was agreeable - so we stripped him down (it's a laborious process trying to get a kid who's pooping, to stand there and lift his legs while you first pull down his shorts, take those off, and then try to delicately undo his diaper without making a mess!) and he promptly sat on the potty while we read a couple of books that I recently got for him.

He finally seemed to have enough (hadn't gone pee nor poop) and stood up saying he was all done. Just as I was getting ready to put a diaper back on, he peed a tiny bit on the floor. Whoops! So, I put him back on the potty to sit a bit longer. We sat there for a good 15-20 minutes reading those books from cover to cover a hundred times. But, he loved it and didn't seem to mind (he especially likes the "flushing" button on one of them). Toward the end, he looked at me with a funny face and started grabbing for his penis, saying pee pee and potty. I thought he was finally understanding the stories from our books - but, he stood up and lo and behold, there was a bowl full of pee in that potty!! WOOHOO!

It was exciting for both of us - I clapped, told him what a great job he did, and he helped me flush it down the toilet (another part of the process he thoroughly enjoyed).

I figured I wouldn't push my luck with the pooping part and just called it a day with the potty adventures. So, we cleaned everything up, put clean fresh clothes and a diaper back on him, and went about playing in the house.

Only, about 15 minutes later, he started trying to poop again. I asked him if he wanted to go back on the potty, but he shook his head and said No. I said, are you sure? I can come with you if you want. So, he grabbed my hand and we went back into the bathroom to sit on the potty once again. He hopped on and off several times, not really sure about the whole ordeal. But finally, during one of the last "hops" back on the potty, he did a final grunt, looked up at me with an "uh-oh!" and immediately stood up.

He had pooped! He seemed a little shocked at first, but then super curious to see the results of his efforts. ;-) Even trying to touch it! *sigh* Once he realized it was a good thing to poop in the potty, he got very excited and smiled and clapped and yelled "Yaaaay!". And, once again, helped me flush it down the big toilet (and then proceeded to flush, and flush, and flush, and flush, until I had to redirect him to something else).

I still feel like we're miles away from potty training - but it also felt like a small amount of progress, so I'll take it!

Shit.

Logan and I got home tonight to a house smelling of shit. I thought oh great, one of the cats didn't cover up their poop again! Ugh! But, as I turned the corner to let Lola out of her crate, I saw the splatter of shit across the floor of our den.

And then another splatter closer to the sliding glass door.

And then another.

OMFG it was awful.

I quickly let Odin out (he was looking sheepishly guilty!) and then had Lola go out the front door and around the house to the back (so she wouldn't run into the puddles and track it all over the house in 15 seconds flat). I then ran back inside just in time to catch Logan walking thru the piles of soupy shit.

His shoes were suctioning to the floor and he couldn't figure out why.

STOP!

I hoisted him up as fast as I could, stripped his shoes off, carried him to the master bathroom (where I had to PEE like nobody's business) and locked us in the room. My mind was racing. How the hell was I going to clean up this house while keeping a very fast and mobile toddler out of that shit?

The big jacuzzi tub in our bathroom was calling my name. And Logan was already throwing his toys in as if to say, I'm ready Mom! Let's take a bath!

So I stripped him down, filled the tub and then did the unthinkable.... I left my kid to play in the tub on his own while I raced around the house gathering cleaning supplies and assessing the damage.

To my horror, Logan's room was also hit. And because he has a rug in there, it was really bad. :( My guess is, Odin had his first diarrhea attack in Logan's room (where he likes to hang out and sleep during the day). When he realized it, he ran to the den to try and get outside but since we keep them locked in the house during the day, he couldn't get out. So, he had a few more accidents near the door. Just ONE MORE REASON to get that friggin' doggy door project DONE!! Argh. Don't even get me started.

I thought I could probably handle the cleanup on my own if it had just been the den, but with Logan's room also a mess, I needed some help before I had a major meltdown.

I called Jon and told him to come home ASAP. I knew this was a big "ask" since he actually had some late night work to do in the data center and coming home now meant he'd have to be back up to the city bright and early tomorrow morning to finish the work. But he could hear the urgency in my voice and dropped everything immediately. He was still an hour away, but I knew I wouldn't be done by then anyway.

I spent the next hour checking in on Logan and singing to him from the other room - me on the floor, hands and knees, scrubbing away, while he blissfully unaware and totally having the time of his life in his tub.

That is, until suddenly he started yelling for me: "Mama! Mama! Out! Out!"

That's strange. My son never volunteers to be taken out of the bathtub. What gives?

I come in and he's standing in the tub, reaching out to me to be picked up, and pointing back down to the tub.

The little shit had taken a shit!

Nice. Just what I needed. MORE SHIT.

I tell you, it was at this point that my eyes were threatening to well up with tears.

I drained the tub, cleaned the poop up, hosed him and his toys down, and refilled the bathtub so he could continue playing. I was hoping he'd stay in long enough until Jon got home to help and watch him while I continued to clean up Odin's mess(es).

Luckily - it worked. I had the den cleaned up and was still working on the rug in Logan's room when Jon finally pulled up an hour later. Jon scrubbed Logan down and dressed him while I tried vacuuming the rug with our shop vac. It didn't work so well - so I decided we needed to rent a steam cleaner. And, I needed to get out of the house before I went ballistic and strangled our pets. None of us had eaten dinner yet either - and it was hitting Logan's bed time (approx. 8pm)

So, off to Fresh Choice (for some healthy greens spoiled with ranch dressing. mwahahaha) for a quick bite to eat and then Longs Drugs to rent a steam cleaner!

We were home by about 9:30pm and Logan was exhausted. Frankly, we all were (and my back! KILLING me softly.)

We couldn't put Logan to sleep in his room. The house had aired out pretty well, but we wanted to spray the carpet with some stain treatment we bought at the store before using the steam cleaner tomorrow - and we weren't really crazy about leaving our kid in the room overnight inhaling all those fun cleaning fumes. So, he's now conked out in his travel tent in our bedroom, and we'll just spend another night on our futon out in the living room (because, didn't I tell you? one of the cats or Lola, we're not sure, had an accident on our bed over the weekend and I've been airing out the mattress to dry after treating it as well!).

I'm pretty sure we won't be getting any new pets for a loooooong time.

When it rains...it pours...

Have you ever had that feeling that when the shit hits the fan, it REALLY hits the fan, all at once and splatters indiscriminately all over the damn place?

The past few days, and the next, look to be very entertaining indeed. And, just when I think this is about all I can handle right now something else turns up.

For instance, my back. My injections last Monday went well, but I was in MORE pain the few days afterwards. I got shots of cortisone to EASE the pain. So, doesn't that seem counter-intuitive to you? My PT explained it to me as, if my glass is already full, and we fill it with just a little bit more liquid, it's going to be SPILLING over. Spilling over with aching numbing pain she forgot to add.

Luckily, my back started feeling better about Sunday afternoon. And then, Jon took off for a week-long business trip to NY on Monday morning.

Sanka, our oldest cat, has also been failing (we're all old and rickety in this here house). We started noticing that she's been losing weight these past couple of weeks, at a dramatic rate mind you, yet she's eating and DRINKING, like crazy!

And then there's the pee. Ohhhhh, the pee.

Remember when I mentioned we got back from our LA trip only to be greeted by a warm stuffy house smelling of cat shit and pee? Well, the pattern has continued - pee just outside the litter box, on the floor, a nice shiny wet big puddle for one of us to clean up each morning, noon or night.

And just when you thought that was enough (we're tearing our hair out trying to figure out WHY OH FUCKING WHY aren't the cats using their litter boxes properly anymore?!?!) I wake up with a jolt the other night to a nice warm WET lap. That's right. More pee. On our bed. On our comforter. On my pajamas. ON ME.

And we thought, hmmmm, maybe this pee deal is Sanka and not Iz (who my husband we were blaming) afterall.

So I took her to the vet today to get checked out. They think it's either one of three things:

1. $ Diabetes
2. $$ Hyperthyroidism
   
3. $$$ Kidney Problems

We'll find out tomorrow.

That's the oldest cat. Now let's turn to the youngest cat. Twyla. She's our most feral skittish cat of all, and really only likes to hang out with me. She will sneak outside when she gets a chance and frankly, we haven't really cared esp. given she's put on some extra weight after moving to the new house and she needs to work. it. off.

But I digress. So Twyla likes to do the cat walk along our fences, our neighbors' fences, everyone's fences, you name it. And, has discovered hey! this fence juts right up against the house so it's only a 3 ft (or so) jump up onto this nifty roof here.

And there you go. She's now stuck on the roof. Been stuck up there for A FEW DAYS. I kid you not. Jon tried, unsuccessfully, several times before he left for his trip, to get her down. Me with the bad back, even *I* have tried several times to coax her down (I even climbed onto the roof tonight in a desperate attempt to free her, just don't tell my PT that). We must look like idiots, teetering at the top of our ladder, leaning over the edge of our roof, shaking a bowl full of kibble saying "heeeeeeeere kitty kitty kitty!! c'mon cute kitty! heeeeeeeere, little Twyla!"

And the moment she gets within arm's reach, I try to grab her and WHOOSH she splits. She's just super spooked. And, the longer she's up there, the more spooked she gets.

Hey, and did I tell you we've hit a heat wave this week and it's running in the 100's during the day and oh yeah, roof tops are probably one of the hottest places around to sit all day with no food, no water, no shade?

Jon tells me tonight, don't give her too much food and water. Then I'll have to clean poop and pee from the roof.

Ummm, Jon? If I don't give her food and water, you'll be cleaning a dead cat from the roof. Take your pick.

Who's next?

Oh right. My son.

I got a call this afternoon from Logan's preschool. It's never a good sign when your cell lights up with your preschool's name on it. The teachers aren't calling to chat about the holiday weekend or the Stevie concert you just went to. Nosiree. They call and say "Hi Bree, no need to alarm, but Logan seems to be really sick."

No need to alarm? Then why the hell are you calling me?

Well, that little rash he had around his eyes yesterday has come back, and looks a lot worse. In fact, it's all over his cheeks now too.

Oh great.

And, he hasn't been eating nearly as much as usual.

Uh huh.

And, his cough seems to be getting worse.

Anything else?

Yeah. He had an explosive diarrhea a little bit ago. He doesn't have to go home just yet, but if he has another, then he has to go home for sure.

But you know, no need to alarm.

*sigh*

So I took Loganito to the dr's this afternoon, right after my PT appt (where I swore I wouldn't be climbing on any rooftops) and right before Sanka's vet appt (where I juggled a crying kitty in one arm and a crying baby in the other).

Luckily, it doesn't appear to be anything too serious. The doc thinks he's had some sort of allergic reaction, probably to food (the most recent new food we gave him was yogurt just a couple of days ago) but it's really hard to say.... So, we're laying low for awhile. Off the yogurt and will wait for the rash to go away. In a few weeks we can introduce yogurt back into Logan's diet and see if he has any of the same reactions or not (the dr thinks most likely not so we'll see). Other than that, he's ok. Nothing contagious or life threatening. His cough is a little "croupy" but nothing to worry about (clear lungs, nose, ears, etc.).

You'd think all this would drive a woman to drink. And yet....

I started weight watchers last week instead.