cat named pig

I still have a blog. It’s still sitting here, just waiting for updates. And the weird thing is, the longer I go without updating, the harder it seems. I used to post about anything from messes my kids made to cat barf, and I never cared. Now it seems like, if I’m only going to post once a month, it better be good. Yet the content life throws at me (messes, cat barf) never seems to yield anything that would make for a “good” post.

Actually, that’s not totally true. The cat barf thing reminds me — I do have a quick story and in the interest of not over-thinking my little parenting blog, here it is:

A while back, before school ended for the summer (also known as the Good Old Days, when Siena had somewhere — somewhere free — to go each day where she was happy and entertained) we were at the bus stop and Siena’s usual bus stop buddy was not there because she was sick. Her mom had called me that morning, so I told the kids she wasn’t coming to school because she had thrown up.

(Actually, I said “barfed” because I’m all colloquial like that.)

Anyway, as soon as I said that, Elliot looked at me with wide eyes.

“Is she a CAT?”

Because in his little world, only cats barf. And they (well, ours) do so with such frequency and aplomb (loud, dramatic meowing followed by revolting gagging noises following by frantic devouring of the vomitus, because hey! bonus food! score!) that I guess it makes sense he would associate barfing with cats. Sadly.

And on that lovely note, we are heading out to go swimming. But there will be more posting soon, because I am now on break from work for the month of July and we went to Philadelphia and saw good friends get married and Siena wore fairy wings and it was all very exciting and would actually make a much better story than the above. Yet the cat barf, as so often happens, is what’s getting posted for now. Because I’m out of time and people need sunscreen.