Cardinal Sin
So, this morning I pulled out my new stack of lined paper, and was planning on drawing something fantastically fantabulous for all y'all, but I couldn't find my blue pen, and I didn't want to draw with my now inferior black pen, and all I could find was my red pen, and I can't draw with my red pen because that's my angry pen, so, you'll just have to do without today.
Besides...
I couldn't think of anything to draw.
Last night, my cat got out. Normally, I would just say, "stupid cat," (and I did), but Pepper is now without any sort of defense whatsoever now that we had her pointies removed, and Jeremy went outside, flashlight in hand, to find the beast.
(On a side note, I have a really hard time believing that Jeremy hates cats like he says, since he is awfully concerned about Pepper when she goes missing. I mean, I was sort of heartless and thought to myself, "Hey! If she is gone, I can get that $1500 Bengal I wanted!" Maybe he just looks at her as a long-term investment, just in case we have a famine and we have to eat her.)
(On a side note, I have a really hard time believing that Jeremy hates cats like he says, since he is awfully concerned about Pepper when she goes missing. I mean, I was sort of heartless and thought to myself, "Hey! If she is gone, I can get that $1500 Bengal I wanted!" Maybe he just looks at her as a long-term investment, just in case we have a famine and we have to eat her.)
Jeremy found her curled up in a ball outside next to a pile of sticks.
It's like she can't help herself. She hates being outside, but she is drawn to it.
I can imagine her thought process:
"LOOK! The door is open, and I will go sniff, and then I will go outside in the dirt, but I don't want to go outside, but I must, but it scares me, and uh oh, here I go, stepping outside, what am I doing, I should stop, but I can't stop, and I want to sniff and eat grass, and throw up, but what is that scary thing, and holy crap, where am I, what if I can't find food, I should curl up in a ball next to this pile of sticks."
It reminds me of my thought process two days ago:
"LISTEN! My baby is crying, so I will hold her, but I have things I have to do, and the kids are eating shortening and throwing their poo at each other, but she won't stop crying, and if I hold her, I won't have enough arms to beat my children, and they tend to gang up on me, so I should put her down, but then she cries like she is being eaten by fire ants, and gosh, I hope there aren't any fire ants, I should check, and oops, I made too much noise and she knows I'm in the room, maybe if I just go down the hallway for a few minutes she will wear herself out, holy schmoly, she isn't stopping, what do I do? I should curl up in a ball next to this pile of sticks."
So, I gave her a pacifier.
I didn't plan on doing that.
I don't like pacifiers.
Now, before you go all Angry-Mama-Bear-Who-Is-Pro-Pacifier, know that I don't like them because the pacifier thing tends to get out of hand. Pacify your child with it, if you must, but please...they don't need to have them in their mouths all day long up until they enter kindergarten.
So, Eden's little brow furrowed for a minute while she thought about it, and then she slurped that puppy in. Happy as a clam.
I wasn't so happy.
But, what could I do? I have three other kids, and she wouldn't stop crying.
Maybe God makes her cry like that so I have to use a pacifier when I'm at my wit's end so that I will be humble and accept the fact that I am human and can't do everything.
Maybe that's why he only gave us two arms, too.
Comments
Annette, we definitely do!
So, Audrey belligerently sucks her thumb and Henry insists on a sippy cup at naptime and bedtime.