5 and a half years ago, my life consisted of sleeping,burritos and dropping entire paychecks on the Victoria's Secret semi annual sale. I was pretty sure I knew what motherhood would be like. I was wrong. I had visions of sanity,a clean home, and cats that weren't locked in the closet after being soaked with a 4 year old boys urine. Yes, I thought motherhood was one beautiful lucid moment to the next

...and then came Sam.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Oh for the love of god...

Today my new pet sitter came over. She is watching my zoo for 6 days, and I am extremely nervous. I think Sam picked up on my anxiety, and because of it wanted to "help". With Sam, "help" almost always means doing something that is going to finally push me over the edge into nervous breakdown canyon. I was downstairs finishing the dishes, because for some reason I was convinced that a pet sitter would look down on me for having dirty dishes. About 5 minutes into dishes, baby rope (Sam named this cat) came downstairs, with what looked like giant side parts in her fur. When I got a better look I realized that chunks of her hair were missing all over. I went upstairs and found Sam holding my other cat Sponge (he also named her) laying on the bed, peaceful as can be, while Sam chopped off her hair with play dough scissors. First of all, how in the fuck do play dough scissors cut cat hair? Anyway, I screamed at him, because I was already anxious about a stranger watching my pets and this was the last thing I needed. He explained to me, that the cats needed to look beautiful, because if they were too ugly, the lady would not feed them and they would die.

How do you argue with that? I mean, he makes sense. He is completely wrong, but he wasn't doing it to be mean. Wonderful, another time that I cannot punish my 4 year old, because he makes too good of an argument. Should be a blast when he's 14.