For reasons that are unclear to me, Eliza has lately been obsessing about ziplines for her stuffed animals. Part of it may be aspirational — when she is 8 and weighs 70 pounds, she can go on the zipline at the ski place near us where Jim and I once went. She has 10 pounds and 6 months to go. We may have to dress her in a really heavy shirt and put rocks in her pants come summer.
Anyway, this weekend she decided to put her plan into action, and after much trial and error and some timely intervention from me, we had a functional zipline and harness. Behold the cheetah mom and cheetah baby. And also, Lucy’s cackle at the end.
A cat update
Barney is now getting steroid shots once a day, as well as antibiotics and an appetite stimulant. The shots don’t seem to bother him, and he is pretty yowly about getting food. Also, he tried to kill the bed last night while I was making it — so many invisible enemies under the wafting sheets, dontcha know — so I’m going to say that I think the meds are doing their work.
Here he is giving me the side-eye because I won’t share my ice cream.
Here is Eliza’s new do. I was tired of dealing with the rat’s nest on the back of her head every morning and the yelling about dealing with the rat’s nest, so I told her hair lady to chop it extra short, and then I fell over from cute and died, the end.
Yesterday my kids trashed the living room because I let them eat in there to keep them quiet while I watched the inauguration. It was worth it because whenever the Teabaggery hatred begins to overwhelm me, I remind myself that there were enough not-hateful people in this country to re-elect Obama and elect a bunch of female legisators and pass a bunch of gay-rights legislation. No, I don’t think all conservatives are bad — I do, however, have a huge problem with the ones threatening the president and his family; the ones telling my gay friends and relatives that they are going to hell/deserve to die/should be ‘converted’ to be regarded as a decent human being; and the ones who think that they get the run of my body because I have ladyparts. Part of me just wants to give them a hug and some soup and tell them it’s going to be OK because it is hard to be so afraid, but mostly, I find that much hate depressing and it was nice to have a day to be reminded that loud as those voices may be, they are not, in fact, the majority.
And for that I give thanks.
The little one dressed up in a hoodie, coat, and boots, or rather, COTT! and VOOTS! Because in the United States of Lucy, pants are optional. Smirks, however, are not.
And then she hugged Eliza, which was super-cute but I think that you can see where Eliza looks somewhat skeptical. I think she was probably afraid Lucy would bite her on the neck while she wasn’t paying attention. I don’t remember this much biting when Eliza was little.