Dagny Taggart Tatum is not investigating Daddy’s slippers.  He’s not chewing.  He’s not wrestling.  He DID do those things, all day.  Nope, this kitten is sound asleep, face fully inserted into Daddy’s shoe. If I were small enough to sleep inside my slippers, I might be tempted. When we’re not busy ruling this house, the Tates and I like to be cozy.

Never go to a kids’ festival attended by 10′s of thousands of people without taking your Ninja.  Always remember to pack the Ninja.

*{this moment} posts are inspired by Amanda Soule from Soulemama, who encourages us to reserve Fridays for a picture which represents our week.*

“Did you reboot Lori?  I bet you didn’t even reboot. Power down, Count to 10…you never learn.”

I’m not sure what’s most pertinent, so I’ll just make a list:

(1) Dagny is a BOY.  You may wonder why I paid an expert to investigate, but here’s the thing: I’m a Mom. I touch enough…stuff.  Dagny’s rescuer thought he was a she, and I took her word for it.  Should we have named Dagny, Richard Parker instead? I say what’s done is done. Daggs it is.  Unless Greg’s college buddy Daggs is reading, in which case, I apologize, because Greg just named a cat after you.  With this new turn of events, I think it’s most appropriate to add rank: introducing “Major Dagny Taggart Tatum, US Air Force”. That has a nice ring to it!

(2) Dagny fixed my printer, which has been sprained for months.  I used to simply require my cats to match my rugs, but I think he’s setting a higher bar; my cats should have skills.  Mad Computer SKILLZ. OH! And this one can fly planes!  Wow…D.T.  is getting better by the day.

“DUDE! I’m a DUDE!”

(3) HOWEVER, he is not getting CHEAPER by the day. Dagny is currently filled with ear mites, and probably equally loaded with parasites.  Yum.  He went on a poop strike, but Sara talked him out of it.  Or squeezed it out of him…whatever works.  When taking in a rescued stray, you must always assume they bring river fever with them.  You’ll be less disappointed when the Vet tells you it’s only the plague.

(4) And here’s where it gets dicey: Dagny is an Objectivist. Obviously, I’m trying to be loving about this choice, but it’s going to be a tough one for me. Quite frankly, I’m hoping he’ll outgrow it.  I’m all for total consciousness, but this idea of finding happiness only by pursuing his own self-interests, while very feline, is simply ego-centric. As you may recall, Syd and Cy practice Judaism, so I’m hoping for some spirited debates, FOLLOWED by him changing his mind.  Maybe it’s just a phase. Objectivism reads like a drunk college student spouting frustration during finals week. UGH. Who needs this much angst in a cat?

“Stop fighting me on this woman! It IS an ethos! Existence exists, man.”

(5) This 3 lb cuddle monkey has taken a bit of a liking to me and my lap. So what if he’s an uber-busy pilot with an outdated philosophy on life, in the middle of a gender identity crisis, and full of bugs and poop? So what? Jack had a gambling problem and Max was addicted to processed meats. Sydney weighs more than Kelly and Cy borders on Co-Dependent. Who is perfect?  See my point? I’m keeping him.  Losing the mites, but keeping him.

This Morning:

Mommy: Kelly!  We’ve got to get out the door!  What are you doing?

Kelly: I forgot something upstairs.  I MUST get it.  I MUST!

Mommy: What on earth MUST you take to school?

Kelly: I’ve been struggling to finish Tile Card #19 in Math Class. I’ve been trying for TWO WHOLE DAYS!  I woke up in the middle of the night, and I had some ideas as to how to solve it!  I wrote my ideas down in my diary, and I MUST take it into school today and try again.

Mommy: Are you serious?

Kelly (running down the stairs with her pink diary under her arm): Here it is.  Of course I’m serious.  It’s Tile Card #19 Mommy.  TWO DAYS! Let’s go.

Here is an excerpt from an email I received from Kelly’s Math Teacher this morning:

“Card 19 was finished before 8:10 this morning!    Kelly was super motivated to get it finished.”

Lesson #1: Never doubt Kelly in conversation.  While she is regularly implausible, she is rarely lying.

This evening after watching excerpts from Les Miserables (our newest topic of conversation/obsession, aka “Let’s start a conversation with Mommy about something she loves, and she won’t make us go to bed):

Kelly (after watching “Master Of The House” for the first time): He’s a bad guy, but I can’t UNDERSTAND IT!  I KNOW his voice.  He’s been in something else.  I KNOW his voice.

Mommy: Sacha Baron Cohen? In a kid’s movie?  I guess it’s possible.  Let’s IMDB it…..Oh Good Lord.  I can’t believe it.  He’s King Julian from Madagascar.  He’s the crazy lemur.

Kelly: SEE?!  I knew it.  Now look up the good guy.  That Jean Val man.  He’s somebody too.

Mommy: You’re unbelievable.  He’s Bunny from Rise of the Guardians.

Kelly: Uh-huh.  Different accent, same guy.  It was really creeping me out for a minute. Javert is nobody.  He’s just scary.

Sara: He doesn’t really die Kelly!  It’s called SPECIAL EFFECTS!

Mommy: Gladiator doesn’t do kid movies.  Kelly has this right.  He’s alive and well and living in Australia. He’s not a bad guy in real life.

Kelly: Yeah, but he’s not Bunny or King Julian either.

Mommy: Hollywood is a very complicated place, what can I say?

Lesson #2: You can’t fool Kelly.  Drunk Inn Keeper, Drunk Lemur, Greatest Lead Role In A Musical, Intimidating Bunny. She can 7 degrees the heck out of anyone ever featured in an Animated Film, apparently. Let’s never tell her Mel Gibson is John Smith in Pocahontas, OK?  It may destroy her idea of good and evil. 

You knew this was coming.  I didn’t know, but YOU knew. You could have called.  Well…maybe some of you did.  Lydia put on a whole day protest (cleverly disguised as a fantastic girlfriend hang out and do really cool stuff day), but then we had champagne at lunch, and forgot all about the pet discussion. I love Lydia.  She gets me.

I often say we don’t choose our pets, they choose us.  In this case, it was a little of both.

Introducing, by circuitous way of joining our family: Dagny Taggart Tatum, named for one of the strongest females characters written into classical fictional literature, and…um…a male stripper.  I’m not sure how to begin the apology. Greg ordered an EXCEPTIONALLY large margarita for me tonight at my Mother’s Day dinner, so it’s possible I won’t apologize at all.  But I will laugh really, really hard.

Greg’s favorite book (or a close second to Rainbow Six ) is Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, the main character being Dagny Taggart. As this kitten is a birthday gift, thereby coming with naming rites, I assumed he’d name it Richard Parker, after his favorite character in Life of Pi.  Oops.  This kitten is a girl.  Dagny Taggart it is. Whomever names the cat, the other person may choose a last name commiserate with the name of whomever is top of their…let me put this delicately…their “list”.  You KNOW what I mean. Tatum.  Channing. You read this blog.  You can follow the bread crumbs.

As a matter of fact, we met this kitten a few weeks ago, when our neighbor rescued it, and Greg carried it into the kitchen to meet me.  Cute as the day is long, I yelled no, and sent him right back out the door.  I knew the pressure to replace Max was upon me, and I was RESOLUTE that we were complete.  Was Cyrus growing bored?  YES.  Was Sydney thrilled to have Mad Max gone? YES. I figured we’d reach a middle ground of anhedonia with the cats. Life was good.

Was our neighbor able to keep the cat? NO! Did she put a call out on Facebook for a good home? YES! Did I write her immediately and set up a chance for the baby to play with Thing 1 and Thing 2? You know the answer to that question.

Has Cyrus woken up in a new kind of amusement heaven? YES! Are they playing themselves into exhausted comas, waking up, and starting their games all over again? YES! Does this kitten have time to cuddle with us? NOT YET!  She.is.just.so.busy.  As it turns out, Dagny Taggart is the perfect name.

Is Syd pleased? NO! Is she hissing at the kitten? Well…not exactly.  Syd is so fat, she can no longer hiss.  When she tries, it comes out as a pig’s snort.  No joke.  Barely a hiss which turns immediately into a honking snort, following by a choke. Then she lumbers off and looks for her favorite human, upon whom she submits hours upon hours of complaints (disguised as cuddles with longing pleas for reprieve from the chaos).

Is Daddy listening to Sydney’s whines? NO! Look at this squirt! She’s smart.  She’s fast as the wind.  She’s playful.  She’s starting to allow Greg and Sara to carry her around the house.  With all the chasing, my house sounds like an elephant’s playground.

Yep, that sounds just about right.  Life has been far too quiet since the snowy day my Max died.  This house was due for a little shaking up.  And…well…Greg loves cats.  And I love Greg.  So, you do the math.  Welcome to the ranch, Dagny.  5 out of 6 of us welcome you with open arms.

*A special thank you to Danielle for graciously parting with her baby kitty, and allowing me to give her to Greg for his birthday. Please come over for visits! This entire family loves the both of you.*

So much for proving a point by adopting an irritated primate.  Gertie settled right into the routine and the girls have found her to be quite cuddly. The kitten?  Not just yet.  She hasn’t stopped moving long enough for anyone to catch her.  In fact, she and Cyrus have engaged in the world’s longest game of tag.  Other than very short breaks, the game has been in play for 19 hours.

A birthday gift for Greg has turned into 2nd year birthday gift for Cyrus.  Sydney has turned back into Eeyore, which is at least a feline mood I recognize. The rest of the house is full of manics: cats chasing cats, kids chasing cats, Greg stopping now and then to scoop up whatever is dashing past him at the speed of light.  Gert and I are heading out for coffee to take a break from this mess.  I wonder how gorillas take their coffee? I’ll bet she’s really sophisticated, and discusses things she reads in the New Yorker. She’ll probably ask me to pay, which is not cool with me, but I’ll do it, because my Lord, look at her.  Scariest gorilla I’ve ever stolen from a zoo.

I know, I know.  Kids are supposed to give away surprises.  It’s what they do.  If you want to keep a secret, don’t tell your children.  STILL, I feel a little…put out.  I have to laugh at myself, thinking my girls could keep a kitten a secret.  It’s a KITTEN.  The Holy Grail of the under-12 set. “Daddy!  We got you the Holy Grail!” And he probably would have guessed kitten.

I took this picture last weekend at the Columbus Zoo.  Screw it.  I drove over today and picked up this gem of a pet.  I’ll show my family to give away my secrets.  Meet our new gorilla.  She’s kind of pissed off.  She ‘s a Mom.  It comes with the territory.  I named her Gertrude, and she makes the rules now. She’s not terribly cuddly, but she makes up for it with IQ points.  And the ability to strangle any kid who can’t keep a secret in the weeks preceding Daddy’s birthday.

Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: we don’t pick our pets.  They pick us.  Welcome home Gertie.  Please don’t eat the girls (or the new kitten).

Sara: Mommy, UM…I’ve got some bad news.  Daddy guessed his birthday present last night when you were at dinner with your friends.

Mommy: HOW? How on earth could he have guessed his present?

Kelly: We kind of gave him a hint.

Mommy: What was the hint?!

Sara: We told him it was alive.

Mommy: That was rather…specific.

Kelly: We thought he’s guess a TIGER!!!  I don’t know how he guessed it!  He loves tigers!

Sara: Why are you laughing like that? It’s like you’re laughing…but not?

Mommy: Well, what’s done is done, but it’s NOT a done deal.  We have to have the play date with the kitten first when Daddy’s not home and make sure Syd and Cy are OK with this. And then after that, Danielle has to actually give us her kitty, and that’s a really big deal too.  It’s just a maybe right now.  PLUS, you have to remember that Daddy gets to name the cat.  He has wanted that cat since the moment he picked it up, and it’s his birthday, so he does the naming.

Kelly: Don’t worry Mommy!  Don’t worry.  Daddy knows you wanted it to be a surprise, so he’s going to ACT surprised, and we’re all going to pretend I’m giving him a COMPUTER.  You know how much he loves computers, and I wanted to give him a computer all along, SO…that’s the surprise.  See?  It’s totally fine.

Mommy: OH!  Well OK then.  Yes, the idea that we might give him a live tiger but actually have a 5 year old buy him a computer is a far more plausible scenario anyway.  Good.  OK, in the car, time to head to school.

Sara and Kelly (dancing from head to toe out to the minivan): A kitten!  A kitten!!! 

I’m posting this video for my Dad, who introduced me to Saturday Night Live during its glory years of the 70′s. Dad was a big fan of Dan Aykroyd’s straight man abilities.  Pair Mr. Akyroyd with Chevy Chase, John Belushi, Jane Curtain, or my personal favorite, his straight man performance with John Cusack in “Grosse Pointe Blank” (my favorite line-quoting movie)…it didn’t matter, Dan was the man.

Tonight Kelly asked to read Calef Brown’s “Funky Snowman” to me, and of course, Sara had to join in the fun. If you don’t own Polka Bats and Octopus Slacks, I highly recommend it. Watching the girls, I was suddenly transported back to my living room in 1978, laughing with my Dad until my sides hurt.  Then he’d read a little bit of Steve Martin’s Cruel Shoes to me, and we’d call it a night.  Good times. So here they are, Kelly playing the part of Dan Akyroyd, and Sara, obviously playing John Belushi.

I’ve made fish taco recipes which are delicious and ridiculously complex.  I think a lot of people are put off by the fish available in the Midwest.  So I played around with using shrimp, prepping it similar to how I use it in a peach and rice stew, because I don’t want to eat flavorless shrimp in a taco.  Here is a meal I served my family last week, and it was well-received.  I call it Rookie, because it’s both easy, and a good fit for folks new at trying fish.

Recipe:

Take a pound of thawed shrimp and put it in a tupperware container.  Sprinkle with cumin, brown sugar, and salt and pepper.  Drizzle with a bit of olive oil and mix.  Cover and marinate for as little as an hour, and up to 8 or so.

Saute until done (no more than 5 minute or so, because overcooked shrimp turns to rubber), and serve on taco shells (my kids like soft, but I like crunchy) with lettuce, tomato, and taco cheese.

I serve it with sides of guacamole (which I always top with chopped tomatoes) and chips and something I call Fiesta Corn.

Fiesta Corn:

Use fresh or frozen sweet corn kernels. Saute a bit of finely chopped white onion, garlic, and chopped orange and red sweet peppers, until softened.  Mix into cooked corn with 1 tablespoon of butter, and salt and pepper.