The Tale Of The Sh*tting Cat

I can't think of anything else to post, so I will regale you with a fond memory.
Or not so fond.
This one is called, "The Tale of the Sh*tting Cat."
Once upon a time there was a pregnant teenager living in a two bedroom house with her father, brother, sister and cat.
The sister was of an evil sort, making the very pregnant teenager go outside in 300 degree Texas summer heat to water the swamp cooler. She never offered to do it and let the pregnant teenager rest. The brother was not evil but very sensitive stomached and avoided cleaning gross messes at every convenience.
The cat was actually a stray adopted by the pregnant teenager because her wacky hormones ached for something tangible to love since her baby was still inside her and her ex-boyfriend was, well, her ex.
As the story goes the cat unknowingly ingested a large quantity of milk, or rat poison, or powdered laxative, or something. Something that made this afternoon go awfully wrong.
The pregnant teenager was passing through the hallway when she heard a noise commonly heard when she'd been eating Mexican food. Looking about, she saw the cat in what seemed to be a bit of distress, with its face scrunched up and walking bow legged and sniffing for a place to relieve itself. Filled with compassion, the pregnant teenager decided to pick up the cat and carry it to the litter box, thus focusing its efforts to bowel containment.
Or not.
Upon elevation the cat... exploded.
As in the cats bowels emptied its contents in 0.2 seconds.
The fecal matter was sprayed in a mostly circular fashion upon the walls at about waist height, with a small amount on the floor. The pregnant teenager was not unscathed. Where the cat missed the wall in its circular motion it successfully made onto the pregnant teenager, who stood stunned for a full minute before coming to a rather simple conclusion: the cat going to become a stray again. The house was cleared of occupants as the odor of cat feces permeated the house. The friend that was over actually barfed onto the front lawn.
The pregnant teenager called for help in her distress but alas, help did not come. The evil sister laughed from the front porch and exclaimed, "You picked it up!" The brother was desperately trying to keep his kibbles in his stomach, so he was unable to help. This left the pregnant teenager to clean the mess, using no less than three jumbo rolls of paper towels and 1.5 bottles of 409 disinfectant. She then showered in Lysol and threw her soiled clothing in the trash.
Upon returning home from a hard day of work the father asked, "Why is everyone sitting on the porch?"
Thus concludes the tale of the sh*tting cat, who was never allowed into the house again.

Say What?

Since Caleb has been in school his vocabulary has increased and so have his sentences. For example:
"Mom, my church picture is almost gorgeous."
"Dogs will never be understanding cats."
"I am significant."
"That's my view on it, Sissy!"
"SpongeBob is certainly silly."
Yeah. My gene pool at work here. Love it.
Speaking of gene pools, check this out!
Are there secret cloning operations going on in the Navy?!!

The Brain

I have also had a dream in which I visit a certain house, and then years later actually visit it. I chalked this up to a sort of ESP until I found this article at Live Science. It discusses the potential relationship between memory and deja vu. Deja vu, as they define, is your brain's attempt to distinguish between reality and a memory. Basically, when you have a dream about a place, for example a house, it is a creation of your mind. Later on when you visit a house that has a similar feature of your "dream house," your mind experiences deja vu, and it may plug in various elements that it doesn't understand (see this article for more on this phenomenon); therefore, you make yourself believe you have seen the house before.
Did you know that the brain has receptors designed for opiates (morphine) and THC (marijuana)? Did you know that's because our body makes its own version of opiate and THC when we experience pain? Did you know they haven't found the "volume UP" switch for that production?
The brain is such an amazing organ, isn't it?

That Holy Feeling 12 (Fly Away Home)

So the military has decided to fix its major mistake a week or so early, and subsequently Paul is to be home by the end of this week. Major bummer. That means I won't get to drive two thousand miles with my friend and have an awesome time talking and laughing and complaining about our kids. That means I will be flying to Savannah. Alone. There and back. Alone. That's okay though, at least James and I still get to see each other. I feel bad about leaving because Caleb has the nasty booger bronchial stuff again, but I've been praying really hard. I've been doing a Bible study called "Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed" by Priscilla Shrier, Beth Moore and Kay Arthur. I highly recommend it! One thing Beth talks about is how David danced with all his might when his people were carrying the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem, and how we should praise without abandon because God likes us to really thank Him when we are blessed. So I tried it out the other day.
I'm not a good dancer.
I think God laughed a little, but that's okay. He made me, He knows why I have no rhythm.

Meet My Daughter, Chloe

Lily has renamed herself Chloe after the skanky Bratz doll on t.v. Gag. She has put up signs that proclaim "My name is Chloe not Lily don't call me Lily anymore." So now her uncle calls her Chloe-not-Lily and gets her really mad and it's so funny. But I still get to call her Lily because I named her originally. I'm the only one though.
Nickelodeon has this promotion they do during election time called Kids Pick The President, apparently preparing them for their Constitutional duties ten or so years from now. Lily went online and voted for Sarah Palin "because she is the only girl and she's pretty." Hopefully not everyone will vote like she does.

No Thanks, I've Had My Fill 3

I don't have many pet peeves. Just a couple. One of them is hard to explain. I cannot tolerate hearing someone rub their feet on the carpet (Zac still loves to irritate me with this one) or rubbing a pillow when I am laying on it. I also CANNOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, handle a dentist taking a gauze and rubbing my tooth with it for 15 SOLID SECONDS. I can't. It's the sound and the rubbing... eerrrrkkk. I literally couldn't keep my foot from banging on the chair. Seriously. Then when he was done I instinctively cringed and shut my mouth, and he had to do it all over again (he was trying to dry the tooth of all saliva before putting on the crown). I almost cried, y'all. What happened to that spit-sucker thingy? Wouldn't that work?
Yesterday I received my second crowned tooth and that will be my last dentist visit. Forever. I swear. If they're gonna be doing that crap I'd rather knock my own abscessed teeth out with a rusty ice skate, a la Tom Hanks in Castaway. I think I could pull it off.


That Holy Feeling 11 (Faith = Blessings)

Wow, I haven't blogged in a while.
Sorry about that.
If you haven't been keeping up, James and his good friend Paul have been in Georgia for pre-Iraq training since June. Recently we learned that they were going to get four days of R&R at the beginning of November. So my good friend Melissa, who is married to the good friend Paul, and I made plans to drive over and hang out with them during that time. Hang out. Ha ha.
--insert back story here--
Paul is the most unlucky person I know. One day there will be a massive alien attack on Mount Kilimanjaro with seven mountaineers all wearing orange and I can GUARANTEE that Paul will be one of them. He has been in the National Guard for four or five years now, and it has recently been determined that due to a massive error on his recruiter's part, his WHOLE CONTRACT has been invalid. For. Five. Years.
Basically, he went on deployments to Egypt and Iraq on his own volition. He could have said "You know what? I'm gonna blow this Popsicle stand!" and gone home. The. Whole. Time.
--back to original story--
After five years the Army people, or whoever is in charge of screwed up contracts, decide to offer him a chance to get out or get out and enlist active duty Army... two weeks before our planned trip. So if he got released before the trip, I would be flying to Georgia... by myself.
Changing planes three times... by myself.
Renting a car... by myself.
Finding the base.... by myself.
Having an emotional breakdown... by myself.
Of course James leaves the decision to come or not entirely up to me (thanks babe). So I consult Mom, and she tells me in a nutshell that this must be a test from God and that if I show complete faith in God and His willingness to bless us if we ask for it, He will indeed bless.
I am pleased to announce that as of today, Paul will not be leaving Georgia until after the first week of November!! Woo hoo!!
Praise the Lord!!!


Analysis Of A Debate... I Lost Count

1:51 p.m.
Completely started paper over. Pretty sure I wasn't doing it right.
1:52 p.m.
Lots of copying and pasting from previous version of paper.
3:55 p.m.
Length: 6 pages
Words: 2,978