Some Prisoners Are Kind Enough to Give Me Space

Cody hates me. OK, so maybe "hate" is a bit strong, but he definitely doesn't worship and adore me. Which is weird. Very weird.

Every animal Mr. Husband and I have ever had has been all about me. At any point in time, you will find at least two of the little jerks piled on top of me, and it's usually whichever two I like least at that particular moment.

There's Coal, the tiny little sweetheart of a cat who won't. stop. purring. He has the undying need to sit purring in my ear until my head explodes because OMG do I hate things breathing by my ears, especially if that breathing is accompanied by loud noises and tickly whiskers.

There's the beastly white cat who will occasionally pander to Mr. Husband, but then stalks me all over the house, meowing and whining for me to do something for him. I don't know what exactly it is that he wants since I haven't fed him in approximately NEVER EVER, I don't clean his litter box, and little dude is allergic to treats so hell-to-the-no am I giving him those. I really don't know what he's asking me to do. I guess he just wants to see how many persistent meows it takes until my head explodes.

And then we have Meg. I love Meg, I really do, but I don't generally like her. She stinks (literally), is LOUD, and has the amazing ability to shake her head at the exact moment I try to yawn, thereby launching a few megatons of Bulldog slobber into my mouth and the surrounding areas. If you don't believe me, you ought to see my laptop screen--it is covered in little droplets of Bully slobber and snot. It's so covered, in fact, that it's like one big layer of goop has been used to coat my screen to protect it from, well, more goop, I guess. Definitely cause for a head explosion or two.

But Cody? Cody doesn't sit on me. He doesn't appreciate me. He totally ditches me the second Mr. Husband comes on the scene. The ironic thing about it is that I actually DO things for Cody. Every single day I come home at lunch to let his little puppy butt out to go potty. I could be running errands, or doing something crazy like eating lunch, but no, I run home so I can take a dog out to take a crap. Except, he never takes a crap outside. Ever. I let him out of his giant kennel, we go outside, he runs around like an idiot, and I finally give up and go back inside after about 30 minutes of shivering and wishing he would pop a squat already. Every day he thanks me for that by walking in the front door of our house and promptly popping a squat. In the house. Every day.

Jerkface dog.

But, damn he's cute.

We Could Hear a Pin Drop in the Middle of a Linkin Park Concert

It was inevitable that the topic of Jasmine suddenly getting sick and dying would come up last week while we were in Indiana. It was, after all, the first time we had been there since it happened. We never go anywhere without dogs in tow, so everyone is used to seeing us with them when we are visiting. Some people already knew what had happened, but more often than not it was news to people that we had lost the sweet little girl.

The topic was apparently heavy on Alexis' mind, just as it was on ours. The first night that we were at Grandma's house, Alexis sat with her 4-year old cousin, introducing him to Meg and Cody. Then she went on to detail her version of why Jasmine wasn't there. I sat a few feet away teary-eyed as my 2-year old explained something so complicated using phrases and words far more mature than her age would seem to dictate.

It was one of those soft conversations that I might have missed if I weren't cursed with the inability to filter out background conversations. I've always been that way--stuck with Super Ears. It's a blessing when I'm running a training session because I definitely hear every side conversation going on in the room, and can either adapt the class to resolve issues, or freak people out with the realization that I totally know what they are whispering about in the back of the room. It has been a curse when I have had to work in cube land. It's really hard to focus on your own work when people all around are engaged in a million random conversations. It's not that I WANT to hear them, I just do. The only thing that works to block it all out is a good set of headphones and some very loud Linkin Park.

I suspect Alexis has inherited those Super Ears from me. Of course little people always hear everything that is going on around them, but some of the things that she's been saying since we returned to Pittsburgh have convinced me that she heard WAY more than she should have while in Indiana.

I know for a fact that Alexis was cheerily playing thirty feet away in a play room on Thanksgiving Day when I was talking to one of Mr. Husband's Aunts about the whole Jasmine situation. And yet, Alexis has recited that conversation to me almost verbatim. She overheard conversations that included words like "dead" and "cremated." She didn't know those words before, and I'm certain they weren't used when she was in close proximity. She must have been tuning in those Super Ears at some very inopportune times.

I hate that any two-year old has reason to have a vocabulary that includes death terms, and I really hate that mine does. So, don't mock me when I give her my old iPod and load it with some really loud Linkin Park.

Show Your Christmas Crazy

I think we have done a pretty decent job of establishing that I'm crazy, especially when it comes to all things Christmas. I am not alone, however. It turns out there is LOTS of crazy to be found. Prime example, Magneto Bold Too and her Bathroom Tree. The Most Awesome Other Person Who Loves to Decorate and I were chatting, and thought it was high-time that we spread our Christmas Crazy. So, on December 20th, we are co-hosting a Christmas Crazy bonanza. Take photos of your crazy, whether it be excess, a bathroom tree, a tree that perfectly reflects your anal-retentive tendencies, your kid dressed up in the craziest Christmas outfit that you totally admit you love, or even your neighbor's crazy inflatable collection. It totally doesn't have to be the crazy you put on display, just the Christmas Crazy in your life. On December 20th, post those photos. Magneto Bold Too and I will put up a Mr. Linky and you can add a link to your post highlighting your special brand of crazy. It'll be one giant Christmas Crazy party!

If you want, you can let people know you plan to participate using this dandy little bling. Email me at burghbaby (at) gmail.com if you need the code.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have about four more trees to decorate. Maybe five.