God, even *I* can't handle that last post anymore. Subject change! Subject change! I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine hand flaps hand flaps deflecting humor GAH. Moving right along. Some of you may be interested in hearing that yes, I still do have a cat. And he is still as delightfully, clichedly cat-like as ever. He will not hunt mice or stink bugs or crickets, but goddamn it, those motherfucking blind cords are gonna get themselves a vicious mauling and shredding. YOU SHALL NOT MENACE MY FAMILY, BLIND CORDS. He's 14 now, which: Not a fan of thinking about that. His stomach is a lot more sensitive and he's gone from being a solid muscular tank of a cat to one who is...thin. Lightweight. More delicate and bony. He's old, basically. But still happy and cuddly and enjoying his life of non-stop leisure mixed with fresh sink water, uppity fancy canned food and the occasional catnip high. He remains unfailingly patient with the children, especially Ike. (Who calls him "Cah." Usually moments before hurling his body over Poor Cah and grabbing fistfuls of fur.) He will seek out Noah and Ezra for more appropriate levels of affection, and will happily... Read more →

Tequila Mockingpets

This is the last post of the Sauza sponsorship, and I apologize for both the semi-awkward timing and for...well. You'll see. In honor of the Sauza Fireman & Kitten Amazingness video, I ordered a twee little beret for my own animals. Oh, how funny that would be! They would look so dashing and jaunty! Like this! ZOMG. But alas, the beret, it was backordered. I was thwarted by upside-down supply/demand economics! A run on the kitty-beret market! Dump your orange juice futures and invest heavily in felt! I SHOULD HAVE STOLEN THAT PINK ONE I KNEW IT. So in desperation I went to the local big-box pet store in search of the Most Ridiculous Thing I Could Put On My Pets' Heads. I found it, all right. In the form of a doggie doo-rag and some Super Ironical pink skull-and-crossbone hair bows. These items may or may not have come from the "Bret Michaels Pets Rock" apparel collection, which is actually something that actually exists, God save us all. Anyway! Maximum LOLCAT potential unlocked! Now all I had to do was put said Most Ridiculous Things on said pets' heads and the Internet laughs would flow like tequila. Right? Right.... Read more →

Masterfeces Theater Presents

Last night, while we were all enjoying a delicious dinner of grilled chicken chicken and ratatouille (well, except for Noah, who threatened to punch our house apart [WITH HIS FISTS!!!] if we ever made him eat such things again), I noticed a single, compact little turd had suddenly appeared on the floor next to the table. Now, the problem with having a cat and a very small dog is that it is literally impossible to tell their poop apart. And yes, this is a problem. One that we are very familiar with. Hey kids! Who wants to play another round of Who Pooped On The Floor? But since we were eating, I opted not to really ponder over the source From Whence The Turd Of Mystery Flowed, and instead quickly cleaned it up and flushed it away and then... Another one. This time right in the middle of the kitchen, on the path I'd just walked through no more than 30 seconds earlier, when it was definitely poop free. Someone was Stealth Pooping, you guys. And it didn't end there. After dinner, I found one in the living room, then two more under the dining table, and then Jason found... Read more →

No Party, All Bullsh*t

Weeks like this should be illegal. It's been the kind of week where everything has been a kind of low-grade terrible. Just enough to annoy the shit out of you, but not dramatically terrible enough to give you interesting stories for your blog. But it's Friday! So...whatever. Here, I Wrote You Some Stuffs, Deal With It. 1) MOLARS ARE BULLSHIT Ike is cutting molars right now. Three of them, so far. His gums are a horrible blackish-purple color and he's cranky and congested and his sleep schedule is all kinds of jacked up. I am tired. I am running low on both Tylenol and wine. You know molars are a one-year thing, right? Most kids get them sometime around their first birthday? Usually on whatever day you've planned their birthday party? You know Ike is 10 MONTHS OLD, right? Why you gotta be in such a rush, son? Because freezer-burned yogurt melts are bullshit, Mother, and I would like to get going on some filet mignon instead. 2) PETS ARE BULLSHIT Max the Cat has been feeling a bit poorly as well, on and off. Trips to the vet confirm that there's nothing particularly wrong with him, other than being...well,... Read more →

Building a Better Root-Vegetable-Based Mouse Trap

So about the mouse. It continues to elude Max's completely uninterested clutches, and Max continues to not give a flying fuck. Last night Jason and I heard something crunching on kibble in the kitchen, along with a metallic clang -- like one of the pets pushed the food and water bowls together while eating. Except that -- you guessed it -- both of the pets were sitting on the couch, with us. Jason jumped up and cautiously peeked around the doorway, but the intruder was already gone. I proceeded to have a full-body attack of the itching creepy crawlies while Jason checked the humane traps (I KNOW, OKAY) that he'd placed behind the stove at the assumed point of entry. The good news is that a mouse had gone into the trap. At one point or another. The bad news is that he'd clearly had no trouble CHEWING HIS WAY OUT. "So, that's that." I said. "We'll get some nice toxic traps that break their backs or fry their brains or something, right?" He mumbled something while opening cabinets and pulling out casserole dishes or whatever and I went back to the living room. Turns out? Jason had a plan.... Read more →

Dear Cat

We need to talk. Oh, don't look at me like that. You know. YOU KNOW EXACTLY. Look. Cat. You've been a fine cat. For almost...wow...12 years now, you've been a very fine cat. Very affectionate and cozy and face-nuzzly and such. And I can't tell you how happy I am that you remain so healthy and spry and feisty after almost 12 whole years. Like the other night? When you were rolling around on the bed being all adorable and I decided to record a little movie of your adorableness but the dog felt all left out and whimper-y on the floor so I picked her up and put her on the bed and you were immediately all OH HELLLLLZ NO BITCH THIS BED AND TUMMY RUBBIN IS MINE and proceeded to lunge at her head like a cheetah in a nature documentary? Exhibit A: Yeah, that. While not the adorable pet video I originally had in mind, I was still pleased to see you can still get all aggressive and feline-like, when you feel like it. Which brings me to my point: If you're still obviously so up for a good tussle, why the fuck do we have a... Read more →

Counterpoint: Year of the Tigercat

I mean, Point One: TigerDOG doesn't make a lick of sense ANYWAYS, and Point Two: ROWRR, I am lushus. Yeah, I know. I don't many appearances on this blog thing these days. I certainly don't write whole entries anymore. You know why? Because I am a fucking CAT, you stupid sons of bitches. I mean, look! No thumbs. Besides, I lead a very rich and fulfilling life offline. I enjoy looking pissed off, even when I'm not. So having a Twitter account would just be redundant. I enjoy this, which negates any need for adoring blog comments. And this, which is just like, rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrwlolomg. I LIKE THIS. THUMBS UP. STICK THAT IN YOUR FACEBOOK. And of course, Puppy. Sigh. Isn't he adorable? Hard to believe we're both 11 years old now. Seems like yesterday we were both the same size. And Puppy had a scalp and did not poop stuffing at such an alarming rate. (First person who makes an Edward jokes has to come over and make the beds. While I fight you.) (With furious chin rubs.) Read more →


I just wrote an entire post about a brownie. A brownie that I artfully swiped from Noah's kiddie combo meal lunch, a brownie that he did not even know existed, and that I just ate in three bites within 30 seconds of putting him down for a nap. And then it occurred to me that really, that one sentence right there? Was STILL more words than one should really write about a brownie, no matter how sad one is that the brownie is now gone and there are no more brownies. So I deleted the first post about the brownie, only to then write this post about the brownie. I'm really good at this blogging thing, sometimes. Also, I have now have brownie crumbs in my cleavage, and I appear to have spilled salsa on my belly in three different places. And... Um... My cat is real pretty? One time this happened? And then one time Noah and I found a ladybug in the house and Noah really, really loved that ladybug and then I said it was time to send the ladybug home and I opened the window to put the ladybug out on the sill but then accidentally... Read more →

34 Weeks

Yes, yes, I know, I know. I'm getting dangerously close to the point where I simply cannot go a day without at least posting that yes, there is no baby yet and all is well with my womb. I'm sorry. It's just that the baby's sock drawer is not going to repeatedly arrange and rearrange itself, y'all. I've also been blowing my writerly load via dozens of long emails to my husband, since we've learned that we are only allowed to argue about politics via electronic methods. Otherwise we get a tad...shrill with each other, as during major election years our usually happy existence as independents ends, and we retreat to our separate party corners and hiss and spit and furiously send each other links that SO TOTALLY prove that the other person is a complete fucking idiot. And while I usually just end up defaulting to the surefire "I am never sleeping with you again unless you pull your head at least PARTWAY out of your ass," I'm thinking that's not going to be particularly effective this time. I mean, check OUT this slammin' physique. Wouldn't YOU be okay with letting the Bush tax cuts expire as planned in... Read more →


My god, this blog. It is astoundingly boring. So. Very. Very. Boring. It is not updated often enough for my discriminating tastes, either. And this kid is much too old to be very interesting. Not that all this pregnancy puking and hot dog binge talk is all that appetizing. In sum, I am in ur charming family portrait, expressing mah disdain. Pfft. Love, OG Homie aka Ceiba! Read more →