The Awesome Oreo and Other Musings

Earlier this week I made an off-the-cuff comment to Nate during a random hug that I wanted some Oreos. Well, wonderful man that he is, he dropped into Vons and picked me up a bag of Oreos, even though by then I had forgotten how good they sounded.

Ah, the awesome Oreo. Daddy David's favorite cookie. I wonder, as I sit here eating them by the handful, how much (or how little) I am like my father. Have I carried on any of his traits? Good or bad? Did he like studying? Was he a type A control-freak like me? Was he a leader? Was he an introvert? What was he like in the eyes of others? My memories are jaded by the limitations of the 11-year-old mind and the mystical drapery that covers our memory of those who have passed on. I wonder how I am like him, but I don't really want to know about his bad qualities, I guess. That mystical drapery is there for a reason. On the other hand, history can be meaningful and I feel a bit as if a piece of mine is missing.

Change of subject: I've never been comforted by work before, until today. I sat down at my desk this morning and was oddly relieved to be doing something normal that I was good at. This week has been exhausting, out of my comfort zone. Good, though--a lot of teambuilding and a day with the LEAD San Diego class--both taxing, but fun and interesting at the same time. And early mornings and late nights to compensate. It will be tough learning to balance once the little bambino is here. Anyhow, work was different, Nate had a cold and was super busy, and I haven't been sleeping much or well, and by the time Friday morning rolled around I was all out of whack. Short and snippy and grouchy and all out of sorts. But a day at my desk did me good, and Nathan and I are going to spend all day tomorrow working on the music room and the bedroom closet in preparation for said bambino. I may even get out into the backyard to sweep up the last 5 months' worth of dirt and leaves and trim up some of my very bushy plants.

And, on another topic altogether (though related to twice aforementioned bambino) I am still wrought with catbox musings. Where, oh, where to put the darn thing when we turn the music room into a nursery? With all the odd angles of this house there really is no good place to put it. I really don't want it in our bedroom closet for my allergies' sake. Can't put it in the kitchen (blech!) or in the living room (blech again!). There is no floor space in the bathroom, and that isn't really good anyway because that little bambino will eventually start walking and exploring and, yeah, that's just disgusting. The only three things I can come up with are: (1) remove the dishwasher and put it in there behind a curtain; (2) put a cat door in the hall towel cupboard and remove the lower shelf (as well as the towels); or (3) put a cat door in the cupboard under the bathroom sink and keep it under there with all the cleaning supplies.

I think my only real option is number 2. Option 1 would still mean that it was in the kitchen, and although that space would be really easy to keep clean, it would still mean we'd have food going in and food coming out within feet of each other and that's just not a good idea. Option 3 is nice because that's what bathrooms are for, except we're super limited on storage space in there to begin with and I'm not about to keep my blow dryer and makeup next to the kitty krapper. Option 2 may be the best bet. I'd have to line it with plastic of some sort to make it easy to clean, and maybe throw a scrap of shaggy carpet in there to help clean off their tootsies on the way out. Otherwise, they'll track litter into the hall and we'll track it from there all over the rest of the house. But it would be easy enough to move the towels up a cupboard and move the extra cleaning supplies and light bulbs, etc. down to the shelf above the littler box. And it would be outside of both bedrooms and both living areas.

Anyone ever potty-trained a cat?