Hello everyone out there!
For the last several years, I've had people tell me that I'm funny. Not sure if they mean I look funny or I am funny, but after hearing the same thing over and over again, I've decided it's time to explore the funny side of Sarah.
A bit about me: I'm many things to many people. What middle aged women isn't? Mom, wife, daughter (oh you'll be hearing plenty on that!) Sunday School teacher, employee at a job I keep mostly because I get to blog all the time and watch Hulu all day long, and a published author. (My first book, Dream in Color, is a romantic comedy, and is available in print or digital forms. More on that later.)
I'm not really doing this blog because I'm any of those things. I'm starting this blog because I've found in the last several years, that middle aged suburban women lead odd and ultimately fascinating lives. I'm hear to share my experiences as a middle aged woman living in the suburbs.
Sounds boring? You'd think that. Well, let me kick this off with this tidbit:
My daughter and my husband (who will now be known as The Girl and The Husband) decided last week that WE HAD TO HAVE A CAT. My son, The Boy, and I are not pet people. As a mom, I know that any critter that comes into the house will become my responsibility. We had a cat years ago, we've had scores of fish (are fish really pets?) and we've had two hedgehogs. You read that right. Hedgehogs. I loved those hedgies. What I don't love about pets is the parting with them. Pets die. It's a fact of life. Pets die and children wail and cry late into the night because pets die. After putting down our beloved Snowflake the hedgehog two years ago, I refused to entertain the idea of another pet.
Until this past week. In a moment of weakness I said we could look for a cat.
Two days later, we have an 8 week old KITTEN in our house. I swore I would bond with this cat, nor would I do anything for the cat upkeep.
We got Jasper on Thursday. On Friday morning, the Girl left for a three day weekend with a friend.
Did you know kittens cry like new born infants? I do.
Did you know kittens demand as much attention as new born infants? I do.
No one else in the house does. Girl child, gone, Husband, never has a problem falling asleep in ten seconds or less, Boy child lives in the basement. Who had to tend to Kit-Ten at 2, 3, and 4 in the morning?
Yupper, that would be me.
I swore I would not bond with this beast, nor would I do anything for its upkeep.
And then Jasper got sick. Really, really sick. Coughing, sneezing, wheezing, not eating, not drinking sick.
Anyone in the house worried about Jasper? Sure, everyone. But who's the one who drives Jasper to the vet? Who's the one who held Jasper down when they took his temperature?
Who's the one who cleaned up cat vomit when he barfed up his medicine yesterday?
And, (and this is the worst of it all) who's the one Jasper clung to when the vet tried to give him his first dose of meds? I have tiny kitty scratches all over my chest and shoulders, thank you!
So, $122 later, I come home with two sets of drops for the cat and a huge mandate: I WILL NOT ADMINISTER THE MEDICATION TO THIS CAT.
However, after watching The Husband and the Girl make a complete mess of the first dose last night (three drops of brown gooey liquid turns into a sticky BP sized slick in the middle of my kitchen and about a cup of kitty vomit behind the couch), I realize, given the fact that I have given eye drops and medicine to every sort of creature, I'll eventually wind up nursing this 2 pound furry pain in my rear back to mewing, howling health.
And those of you reading this...you all see yourself in this, I know you do!
So, my friends, I look forward to sharing the sadly humorous tidbits of my life with you. If you get a chuckle out of it, my job here is done!
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