Tag Archives: cat

Sweet Porpus

Goodbye, sweetest friend. I promise not to remember you as the sickly kitty you have become. You would not approve.

I will remember you as the fiery lady you always were.

Fiercely loving. Passionately cuddly. A brilliant nanny. The best “oh my god you are home” door greeter that a feline could be. A friend to Schween. Superfan of the sun. Adoring of your dad. Smart as a whip. Sweet and soft. Fat. Happy.

Thanks for being my first baby. I will love you always. I know you will find the sunniest spot to rest on your porch in the sky.

Goodbye, sweet girl. Mama misses you already.

Sad Trombone

Things are not right.

Just…off. It’s weird how stuff can unravel all at once. This usually doesn’t happen, but I guess that’s how life goes sometimes. I don’t want a pity party. I just want to fix things, but much of it is out of my control.

Since I am striving to stay positive, I have taken up a new hobby in escapism. Heh. It’s called Pinterest. It’s like they invented this site with me in mind. Adore. You can see my virtual pinboards here if you feel like stalking me. Anyway. It makes me happy and inspires me when stuff is crummy.

Yesterday, I completed the most ridiculous errand I have accomplished to date. The sick mama took the sick cat along with the sick baby to the vet.

We parked on the street because that is the only option. There was 4ft of snow and no curb to speak of along the street, so I could only open the passenger doors of the car about 14 inches max. I squished in between the horrid snow bank and vehicle and stood in 3 inches of cold slush while somehow getting the baby out of his seat and into the Ergo carrier. Then I went around and sat in the driver’s seat while wearing him. Somehow I got the cat carrier out the driver side door with me, all while the buses whizzed passed us just 2 ft from my open door. I should really draw a picture. All I could think of as I crossed the street was my friend Erin. I repeated to myself:

please don’t fall, please don’t fall, please don’t fall. I pictured the cat carrier busting open in traffic and a baby covered in dirty slush as a CTA bus ran over my foot. LUCKILY THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN. We made it inside safe and sound.

I can barely lift the cat carrier while also carrying Benton because my lower back is in so much pain. I can’t bend more than 45 degrees without dying. Justin is out-of-town this week for the 3rd week within a month, so I am solo and don’t have an easy way to do a chiropractor appointment for 5 more days.

So. Luckily Benton was an angel during the whole vet appointment. He giggled as I stood smashed in between the filthy snow bank and nasty salted car while I struggled to get him free of the vehicle. He only looked vaguely concerned when a vet tech had to be called into the exam room as Porpus turned into a wolverine and needed to be handled with a blanket and leather gloves. It got loud in there. She was a raging bitch. I don’t blame her.

He is so sweet to keep smiling through his sickness. He makes me feel better when I hear that grandma isn’t doing well or kitty has to go on meds for life. I am not as lonely at night when Justin is gone because I can spoon the sweet baby. My sore throat doesn’t hurt as bad when he reaches out for me.

This morning he decided that jumping on my bladder would bring back fond memories of when he was an easy-to-care for fetus baby. Thanks for being so sweet, little B.

So like I said, I don’t need a pity party. If anything, just chime in with me. Things I am currently telling myself include: This too shall pass. It’s just a rut. People have it way worse than you. You are lucky. Things will balance out…etc..etc…

On My Own Again

It’s weekend #2 of the Mister being gone, so this means more alone time. If you don’t count the wee human that lives in my abdomen. However, I am also spending some of the weekend with my girlfriends. So don’t think I am locked up and crying in a tower or something.

I can also be found sleeping in the middle of the bed without regard.

I have always slept on the right side of the bed since I grew out of my crib. But this weekend I decided to try out the middle. Not bad at all. Especially when there are the mister’s pillows that I can steal. Picture a gigantic pillow nest and a gigantic lady with nap-face within the nest. Heavenly. Yes, I still woke up way too early this morning, but at least there were smoothies.

I have eaten an average of one mango per day for the last 2.5 months. Just so amazing.

The advantage to early rising and being alone in the house is getting a lot done before 10 a.m. I paid bills, wrote thank-you cards, went to the store, baked banana muffins for the new neighbors, ate two breakfasts, potted six plants, and cleaned the floor and kitchen. The disadvantage to all this ambition is that my body would rather be in the nest of pillows. I have to give in eventually. OR there is the option to keep going. In which case my body mutinies against my mind. I was literally crawling on the nursery floor during a project this afternoon because walking is just so painful sometimes.

But look at my pretty project results! I hope Baby B likes staring at these.

I know this isn't an infant toy, but I am sticking it in the nursery until he is mobile. Because it is a ridiculous fluffy llama. I love it.

This is my nursery project supervisor/overseer, Porpus Boley. She thanks her grandma in Michigan for the wonderful rocking chair and afghan.

If you have ever had the pleasure of meeting Miss Schween Boley Esq., then you will be surprised to learn that she goes out on the balcony on her own and doesn't completely lose her mind. Even when there are loud noises. Even when a leaf touches her. She is so brave.

24 Week Caesar Salad

(I am actually at Week 25 by now, but here is last week’s shoot.)

I had a foot long baby in my belly last week. So I found a head of Romaine that seemed to work as a good size comparison, but now I realize I have lost my chance to do a Subway 5-dollar-foot-long post.

My expression is less than joyful because I am having a hard time accepting the amount of weight that I’ve put on already. But that is another post for another day. Actually, that is a post I will never post. Because no one really cares, and everyone keeps saying that I look cute. I wish I could believe that myself.

What I am grateful for is a very uncomplicated and healthy pregnancy so far. And that I can grow a FOOT LONG BABY in under 25 weeks. Pretty awesome.

Porpus isn’t generally known for her positive attitude, but she is reminding me here that I am also extra squishy and cuddly. Which is to her liking. She also may have mentioned that it is most interesting to see the belly actually move when the baby kicks. All very true. Thanks, kitteh.

So, what do you do with a head of Romaine lettuce that is remotely interesting? Make Caesar Salad. I am not a fan of the creamy version of this recipe. I am more into the lemony/garlic/vinegar/olive oil version that I grew up with. My mom’s Caesar is the best. And here is her magic formula:

Megagood Mom’s Caesar Dressing:

  • 1/4 cup lemon juice
  • 1/2 cup grated parmesan
  • 2 teaspoons Worcestershire
  • 1 teaspoon  red wine vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon of Dijon
  • 2 tablespoon pressed garlic
  • 3/4 cup olive oil

(shake, shake, shake)

This should easily make enough for two salads. All you have to do is pour it over your washed and torn bite-size bits of romaine lettuce.

But let’s NOT forget the croutons. They are key. Store-bought or restaurant croutons are gross in my opinion. I prefer ripped pieces of crusty wheat or multi-grain toast for this salad. They are easier to fork and have soaking properties that will do your salad good.

Now I need to head to the grocery and figure out what this week’s dish will be. Hopefully I will post before next weekend, because we are moving. Lots of boxes and general busy happenings around here. Week 26 will be shot in the new place!

Breathing is Good

As I type this, I am finding it hard to breath. The body I am living in is starting to feel foreign to me. I know it is technically the same one I have had for years, but it seriously feels like I am wearing a costume. A heavy one. It is increasingly difficult to get a deep breath due to less space for lungs, extra blood pulsing through my body, and carrying more weight. Specifically on the chest. Ahem.

When I tell Justin about my woes, he reminds me that I’m a “good baby grower.” Thanks, that’s sweet, but that doesn’t really help me breathe. I guess there is nothing much we can do. So I sit here listening to my own heartbeat pound in my ears, feeling my blood pulse through every part of my body like there is a race on. And if I am wearing a necklace, it will bounce with each ridiculously exaggerated heartbeat. I guess this is normal?

Otherwise, I’m feeling pretty well, considering there is another human growing in my abdomen.

Life is continuing at break-neck speed and I am keeping up for now. This week’s big event was finding our new apartment. We had been searching for a while, and just found something that is going to work out nearly perfectly for us. I was so excited yesterday that I got a stomach ache. We are also moving a month and a half early. Which is probably a good thing since I am only going to continue to suffocate under my own weight as the months go by. Time to start packing and saying goodbye to lovely Andersonville. But we are excited to get to know our new hood, Rogers Park. And it is the perfect season to explore.

Yes, spring is officially here. Although Chicago welcomed it with a snowstorm.

RUDE.

But the week before the snow was pretty great. The day before the snow was nice enough to open windows and walk to the park without a coat on. Luckily I had the day off to soak in some vitamin D before putting on the puffy coat once again. March is such a weird month here.

The rink is melting!

The rink is melting!

Schween rests by an open porch window

Then hunts her shadow with intensity. This points to the sad fact that she hasn't seen much sun for months.

Oh, and these are taco pot pies. Nothing to do with spring really. Just a weird dinner we had on Thursday. I know it sounds white trash, but they were actually pretty awesome.

21 Week Banana (muffin) Boley

Last week was banana week. A 10.5 inch banana to be specific. Let me know if you ever see one of these, because that is ridiculously large. And most bananas are no more than 8.5 inches at best. But, this whole thing is ridiculous anyway, so I have officially stopped caring if the fruit is the right size or not. Because generally it just won’t be. All I know is that baby Boley is growing, so that is sweet.

This week, I am trying the patented Black and White Except Banana Filter™. Fancy. This is mostly due to my skin being a wreck. Hopefully, some sunshine will help with this problem. What ever happened to perfect glowing skin and hair during pregnancy? Yeah, I am wearing a headband here, too. Meh.

Porp has limited time for phone calls from the banana phone. She can’t be bothered.

Banana hands!

So the above picture may appear gross to you, but when making banana muffins, the more brown your naners, the better. These are prime muffin naners. I have written a couple times about this recipe, because it is one of my all-time favorites. If you only make one of the recipes in this series, make this one. Hundreds of thousands of people agree it is most delicious. Seriously. THOUSANDS.

Besides the bananas, there is a key ingredient that you cannot skip. The cinnamon, butter, sugar crumb topping:

Don’t forget to put it on the muffins BEFORE baking.

Then bake for 18-20 minutes and go see what Norp is up to. Clearly, she is exhausted from all her calls. She has assumed awkward harp-seal-napping-pose on top of no less than two perfectly fluffed plush blankets on her recliner.

Ta-dah!

Everyone will be a fan of these. Try eating them warm, paired with an ice-cold glass of milk before bed. Or warm in the morning with a cup of coffee. They are amazing even if you aren’t a big fan of muffins.

18 Week Sweet Potato Fries

It’s time for another week of maternity and food shots. Seems like time is going REALLY fast by the way. I can’t believe I will be halfway through this pregnancy in only two weeks.

This week, the internet gods of pregnancy have emailed to inform me that baby Boley is about the size of a sweet potato (about 5.5 inches from head to butt). Soon we get to start adding the leg measurements into this equation which means suddenly baby will appear to grow from a something like a grapefruit to a melon within a span of a couple days. This is not exactly the case, but then again this is all very silly with the fruit and veggie thing in the first place.

Once again, the grocery delivery service gave me slightly smaller sweet potatoes than I would have picked out for this shoot, but let’s all pretend they are a bit more rotund. LIKE MY FACE.

Dear FACE, please stop growing. Not cute.

I don’t think I have given credit to the photographer, Mr. Boley. He is not super thrilled about being on the cold porch for these shoots, but he is getting used to the idea. Today he made me sing the filet o’ fish commercial and talk on the potato phone so I would loosen up in front of the camera. I would rather be behind the camera taking the photos, but that is clearly impossible in this situation.

Porpus Boley has been a wonderful director of photography throughout the process. She is generally excited to inspect each food item. NOT TODAY. She doesn’t want anything to do with potatoes. They are neither cute nor tasty in her feline opinion.

DO NOT WANT.

She is right about this being an ugly food. I added the bunny to up the cute factor.

This week, I made a simple and tasty batch of sweet potato fries. You can find a million websites with different spice blends to put on these guys before baking, but you really don’t need a recipe. Just a few favorite herbs and spices that you aren’t afraid to mix.

Here are some important notes to remember when making sweet potato fries:

  • Make sure they are cut into small, even sized fries. 1/4 inch is a good measurement, anything too large will be a mushy mess.
  • DO NOT crowd the pan. Do a couple batches instead. If you crowd the fries they will steam instead of bake. Hence mush mess.
  • Bake at a high heat. 425 degrees for 15 min. Then turn the fries and return them to the oven for 10-15 more minutes. DO NOT open the oven to peek on them all the time. Let them do their thing. Otherwise, mushy mess.
  • Experiment with different crisping methods. I have heard that soaking the raw fries in cold water for 10 minutes will remove some of the starch and allow for a crisper outcome. I have also heard that tossing them in egg whites is the way to go. Let me know if you find the perfect method.

All in all, they are a healthy and unexpected fry option, that is generally a winner for most people. And if you are pregnant, they have all these wonderful vitamins and nutrients that your baby will love you for. (If you are not pregnant, don’t worry, you are allowed to have nutrients, too.) So skip the McDonalds’ version, and treat yourself to a healthy plate piled high with these seemingly indulgent fries.

Puffy Coat

I recently grew out of my beloved winter puffy coat. Others in the house are lucky enough live in a permanent puffy coat.

Yesterday, Porpus bravely tried out her fabulously padded outerwear. She generally prefers a warm patch of sun, but her curiosity about the white fluffy stuff on the porch was too strong to resist.

She steps out without hesitation.

A fine layer of blubber provides protection.

Short legs, big dreams.

Cat hand stands are not for the weak.

Light Brite

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I walk by this ever-changing color wall every day on my way home. Hooray for color.

Schween is also into colored lights.

Schween is also into colored lights.

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She is also into fake prey, her own shadow, and imaginary grasshoppers.

She may not be the brightest bulb on the strand, but she gets by on her good looks.

 

I Spy Something Sassy

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“I Spy” used to be my one of my favorite games to play.

Actually, it still is.