Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Inspector Gadget

We're not quite sure what he was looking for, but it was sure worth trying to find.

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

Too Many Babies

Although this is adorable, I'm glad I have just one.

Monday, February 5, 2007

Brother to Brother

Raising Miles is a lot like having our fat, cat Abbott as a kitten. Chris and I had only been dating a short time, when I decided it was time for us to share a furry, four-legged child. We headed out to the North Shore Animal League on Long Island and proceeded to pick out a new baby. (To this day Chris still attests that we never had joint custody and he's been burdened with taking care of my bastard children ever since.)

When we arrived we noticed that all the kittens shared a kennel with at least one other. The clever animal shelter had conveniently put kittens in cages by twos, called them siblings and said they were only adoptable as pairs. After signing the papers for two adorable fuzzy kittens, we ended up with the pretend brothers, Abbott and Costello. Well, I would have thought this was a scam by the shelter except that when our fake siblings were both full grown they weighed in at a whopping 25 and 27 pounds respectively. (The average cat weighs between 8-12lbs.) They both stood as tall as a medium size dog and shared identical markings and excessive eating habits. There was no way around it, they had to be related.

As soon as we brought them home, Abbott started to assert his independence and the task of trying to outwit him began. We lived in a number of Long Island apartments in private homes during his juvenile delinquency and this often required what we thought were clever tactics to keep him from escaping. (Often because we weren't allowed to have pets.) Chris would build a cunning barrier and Houdini would find a way out. This went on for many years until one prison break brought us home from a relaxing vacation earlier than planned.

You'd think as he aged, Abbott's enormous size would have slowed him down a bit, but in reality he either got bored with the lack of challenges we provided or he just became lazy. Either way he found other ways to irritate me and has done so for almost 12 years. "Stay off the furniture!" simply translates into "Sit here and shed often." Being shot with a water gun means claw up the brand new couch that your not allowed to sit on. "Your all getting declawed now!" means chew all the bandages off so that you have to have an expensive, emergency vet appointment. I could go on and on.

Miles is very much the long-lost brother of this cat. No matter what we do he is determined to figure out some way to get what he wants. I always said when I have a baby, I will not have one of those bratty, spoiled, temper tantrum throwing toddlers. My kid will be disciplined and obedient. What I didn't take into consideration was the genetic stubborn streak he would inherit from both sides of the family. (Insert: both sets of grandparents shaking their heads in denial!)

At only 11 months old Miles is very familiar with the word "NO" and very aware of its meaning. Our definition: No - don't do that, that's not yours, don't touch, put that down, not in your mouth, your going to fall, get off of there, put that back, etc.
Miles' definition: No - do the exact opposite of whatever it is they are telling you not to do and smile.
I feel like saying "no" will just spur on his mischievous actions even more, but when you are in the company of friends and your toddler is pummeling their new flat screen TV with a lego, "No" is vehemently expected.

So with each "No", we inch farther away from the well-behaved child we once thought we'd have and move closer to a more highly skilled and very naughty combination of our DNA . What once was our cat is now our child and all of the Abbott practice in the world has not made any of this any easier!
To be continued - I'm sure.................