Badge of honor

Today, Rose came home proudly wearing a medal for making honor roll. Gotta celebrate the small things!

Bear poking

This morning's dog walk lead to the sight above. I almost wonder what the neighbors think, but heck it isn't 1950, and I'd like to see them raise a kid out of foster care. 

What lead to Rose sitting outside in her jammies is irrelevant. What does matter is the realization I am living with a bear. There are times when we are talking and suddenly the little bear seems poked. Me, the accidental and baffled instigator outside her cage.

I pause, trying to pull the stick back to calm the bear. It rarely works. Once Rose's brain has launched into argument (fight) mode, poker beware. Suddenly, the bear roars and claws at the cage non stop about everything.

I helplessly stand outside the metal bars, then my fight instinct kicks in. I am, after all, a woman, and a first born, and Irish, and a granddaughter to a stubborn and amazing woman...so I don't back down from a challenge easily.

In the last three years, I have leaned to be better than that. To put my stick away, which is what I pretty much did today. It's so lovely out, the warm air made me peaceful. Even after the bear felt so provoked she threatened to choke me, I maintained my composure. Yay, me!

Hence, angry little bear sits alone outside gathering her thoughts as I drink coffee and eat a doughnut. Not to say there won't be consequences for bear's threats. It's just a good feeling to know today this poker didn't get a bigger stick.

Blushing politicians

Today, I reflected on how ironic it is that I adopted a child with lying skills that could make a politican jealous. 

I did so because today the whole Cosby parenting trap came to a head. Rose asked if I ate her truffles. I said I didn't, but I couldn't contain my goofy grin, and my eyes sparkled with the truth.

Mom, you're such a bad liar, she said. 

She was dead right.

I tried to act angry at her accusation and turn away from her as much as possible. No dice. My flushed, red face was not gonna let me have this glorious "teaching" moment.  I continued to deny knowledge of the candy whereabouts, even pinching myself as I crossed my arms. No luck. 

Mom, I know you're lying, you have such a silly grin on your face, she said, almost laughing.

Internally I rationalized I didn't eat the candy, which is what she said, I had just hidden it. I'm not lying on a technicality. And I took one more stab denying any knowledge and accusing her of eating them and blaming me. Alas, my stupid face betrayed me. 

Even after Rose left the room, Mike agreed, I totally sucked at lying. Damn it! No more Cosby style parenting for me. I'll have to leave that to Mike who, I learned, can quite easily keep the truth hidden. Must be his strong, German ancestry.

Loved

Today is my fourth Mother's Day. As usual, it's always a kinda hard day for me. I don't really feel like a mom. I feel like a caretaker for a very injured person who never really lets me into her world. Which becomes even more annoying when if she doesn't hate me, she clearly adores me...almost like worship of a younger sister. 

Up/down, up/down...the constancy of hatred and affection Rose constantly bestows on me is nerve wracking. (Excuse the writings style there...I'm now watching "Pride and Prejudice"..)

Plus. I digress, every year Mike sweetly tries to make it a special day despite my bit of gloominess. Even this year, after the struggles of last month, we had dinner out last night, he and Rose made breakfast this morning, and when a crushing migraine forced me to bed, he waited on me. Hand and foot.

Actually, once the puking stage of the migraine wore off, it became a nice Mother's Day because there was a "Sex and the City" marathon on the E network. I slept and listened to the crazy antics of Ms. Bradshaw, which created crazy dreams of New York. 

Finally, the Excedrin Migraine kicked in enough to let me read and now write as the family gets me a chicken strip meal...which may not be fancy but will hit the spot after a day of nothing but fluids.

Oh, and thankfully, a change in meds has made Rose a totally pleasant kid. So Mike spending nearly the entire day with her wasn't as worrisome as it would have been just one week ago. Seriously, it's like a dark cloud has lifted to reveal her personality. Sure, she's still a teen who knows everything, but now she's also not overly defiant. 

I'm not big on meds. I don't think all behavior should be diagnosed and treated medically. Children need to push and act out. I would like to see her ease off of them. However, sometimes they do really help. 

Now I am going to put this blog entry to rest so I can really enjoy the moment when Mr. Darcy kisses Elizabeth Bennett. Sigh....

Mutant cat conquers the world

Last December we added Apollo to the family. Rose picked the little orange tabby out for her 13th birthday, and his calm nature and quirky kitten ways have quickly bonded him to us.

(If you're not a pet person, worry not, there is a tie back to Rose, buried wayyyyy at the end. For now you can try to stomach some adorable photos and question why you're not a pet person...)

Heck, even Moxie, our 6-year-old collie, can't smother and play with him enough. Eddie, the arthritic 12-year-old is indifferent.

(I have a couple cute videos I'll insert here once I learn how...why google drive doesn't integrate into this app is odd)

Anyway, Mike, the once abashed car hater, which seriously made me wonder if I could marry him, has all but melted. In fact, all of his Facebook profile pics are now of the orange miracle worker, Apollo.

To be fair, hate is a strong word. Mike adored our little kitty Princess, too. He just didn't make his social media presence a small shrine honoring her. Probably because she was shy and hated having her picture taken. Also, Mike hates social media, but that's a topic for another post.

But I digress. As I look at Apollo today, it dawned on me that this little cat has more trust in humans than Rose ever could. He wasn't hurt, misused, or neglected as a baby. It's no surprise he can so easily bond and attach. Heck, even pose for photo after photo.

As you might recall, Rose wouldn't let us take photos of her for nearly a year. Clearly, the events of the past two weeks have been her best attempt to push us away, which makes our little well adjusted 

boy a welcomed distraction. 

At least he wants us, and more importantly he doesn't mistrust us because of others' maltreatment.

Plus, he doesn't have teenage mood swings or moments of rebellion. He is a wonderful counter force, soothing presence, in the house.

And he's a poly kitty, which means he descended from Hemmingway's kitties. He has a genetic variation that gives him a thumb! Yup, he can grip things. The perfect addition for me a writing and communication major and for Mike, a huge fan of movies about mutants (and a fan of literature as well).