What's in a name?

We don't get too creative with naming the creatures that show up in our yard. We do spend a little more time and effort on our indoor pets. We have two min pins, Roman Ross Pennington and Candy Alamolicious Pennington (she came from Alamo, Tennessee). We put some thought into those. But we don't exactly get out the baby name book for the squirrels and the cats and kittens that find our way into the yard.

Take, for instance, Tuesday. Tuesday is a cat that showed up one night as I came home from work. Guess what day of the week that occurred? We weren't really sure that she was a "she" until batch one of kittens came along.

The first batch of kittens resulted in one with siamese-esque markings -- Tip (due to the marks on its ears). The next was fluffy, so his name was ...Fluffy. And the gray kitty was aptly named Gray.

Batch two came along. Another siamesey kitten was named Bingo. The striped kitty was named Tiger. And the one that looked like its mother was named Sunday -- the day of the week on which he was discovered.

If we thought we could capture Tuesday and get her to the vet, there wouldn't have been another batch. However, she is a stray. She allows us to pick her up and take a few steps, but not very far. Her contact with us is limited. But she always brings her kittens to us.

Batch three brought another three kittens. Another one marked like a siamese was named Cupcake pretty much because we'd just made cupcakes to take to a school party. The first kitty we found that looked like Tuesday was named Monday, because we discovered her on that day. A kink in our system occurred Monday night, though, when a second kitty appeared that looked like Tuesday. So, we called it Nighty.

Nighty and Cupcake have been missing for a while. Monday is the only one left. But Monday has been renamed by Jim. And it's a name that really fits.

Whenever the cat catches a glimpse of us, it's mouth opens. We can hear it faintly from indoors. As soon as the door opens, you can hear him soooo loud.

So now we've call him Screaming John.

No offense to any of the Johns in the world. It's just the name that popped out and it stuck.

Screaming John screams constantly. He screams to be fed. He screams when he's fed. He screams to be petted. He screams when he is petted. He's certainly a vocal little fella and one who is finally appropriately named.

No Tea for these Eyes

I started writing this blog for my daughter. She's only 7 now, but I'm an older mom and Alzheimer's runs in my mom's family.

Any way, since this blog is technically memories and notes for her I MUST write this advice for her:

DON'T FREEZE USED TEA BAGS AND PUT THEM ON YOUR EYES TO REMOVE BAGS OR PUFFINESS...AT LEAST NOT IF YOU ARE SLEEPY.

I have bags and circles under my eyes that are just horrible due to a little heredity and a lot of allergy. My 25 yr reunion is coming up this weekend so on Sunday, I had a little down time and thought I'd try the tea bag remedy.

I'll admit that I went into the whole thing as a skeptic. My biggest fear was that I'd have tea-stained skin and would somehow have to tea-stain the rest of my body to match. I'm so pasty white this summer that I figure tea staining might actually be an asset. At least I'd have a little color.

I got a little color all right.

The tea bags were so icy that they were tough to keep on my face. But I managed somehow. And like I always do when I sit still for more than 5 minutes, I dozed off. I woke up in the recliner an hour later, certain that the puffy eyes were gone for good. I was a little concerned with the tingling sensation I felt around my cheeks, but the anticipation of getting to that mirror took my mind off the pain.

Then, the mirror.

That's where the color comes in. Never sleep for an hour with tea-bag-ice cubes on the tender area under your eye. You get contact freezer burn.

And with that comes big red patches that nicely draw attention to the dark circles and puffy bags.

Before treats came in a box

Sydney's really into "rollbacks."

She spies an end cap of Rice Krispie treats at Walmart the other day.

"Look! They're on rollback! Can we get 'em? Can we?"

Sure.

As she put a box in the cart, I said, "You know, when I was a kid, we had to make our own Rice Krispie treats. You couldn't buy them already made.

Her big, brown eyes welled with tears. "You poor thing," she said.

I didn't laugh at her sincerity...as much as I wanted to.

Then, I realized I was sounding like my mother. I didn't even go into the fact that when I was a kid, Nabisco expected us to spread our own peanut butter on their Ritz crackers.

That might have been too much for her to handle.

Curly cords

I enjoy sharing music from my youth with Sydney. The pop music I listened to in high school isn't much different than the pop music she hears today. When I noticed she kept replaying "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" on our Wii "Just Dance" game, I knew it was my chance to enlighten my 7 year old by introducing her to the music video.

That's not all I had to introduce her to.

As I Googled the song title, I explained to Sydney that when I was in high school, when "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" was brand new, we used to watch it on music videos. I explained they were short videos of the band performing the song. Lots of them were very creative. I found the video and pushed play.

"Will you start it again and go full screen?" That meant that she likes Cindy Lauper and somehow, at age 7, understands the magnitude of this song to my generation. Maybe, we were bonding...all due to this song.

Okay,I take motherhood and my responsibility to teach and share too seriously. Truthfully, she just likes the song. That's fine with me.

Then the video gets to the point where all the girls are calling each other and bopping their heads back and forth.

"What are those things?" she asked.

"What things?"

"Go back. The things they have in their hands."

I was confused. Surely she was seeing something I wasn't.

"The telephone?" I asked.

"What's a telephone?"

Nuh-uh. My kid didn't just ask me what a telephone is. Oops. Yes she did. Then I realized, she's only seen cordless phones in her lifetime.

"When we say 'phone,' it's short for telephone," I explained.

"But what's that?" I paused the video again and looked where she was pointing.

The curly cord.

So we had a lesson in phones, tele and otherwise.

"When I was a kid, my dad bought me a longer curly cord so I could move all over my room to talk on the phone. When I got a longer line to plug into my wall, I could even take my phone into other rooms," I said.

"And you couldn't just use your cell phone?"

"We didn't have cell phones back then. As a matter of fact, I remember where there was only one kind of phone you got from the phone company and it was either black or beige."

"Wow. The old days were lame. Can we watch that song movie again?"

Made me start thinking about all the times I went with my mom to our phone office to pay our bill. It was nice to be able to walk in to a local phone office and pay the bill for your black or beige phone. People you knew waited on you. They told you to have a nice day. While it wasn't an exciting day, it did teach me the concept of paying bills...and it was a nice experience.

Most of our stuff today is auto withdrawal or paid online. Other than the water bill, Sydney doesn't see me pay anything. We can't pay our gas, electric, or phone bills locally any more.

If you ask me, that's what's really lame.

Do You Know the MUFFIS Man?

That's a loaded question, actually. There are no Muffis men. Only Muffis women. Even though I'd never heard of a Muffis before, I spent the morning explaining Muffises (Muffii??) to Sydney.

We were watching TV the other day and she paused it while I was out of the room so I could see something unusual. The screen shot was of an audience watching a play produced on the new Nick Jr show "Victorious." Syd had the giggles.

"Look. It's a Muffis," she said between chuckles.

"Muffis?"

I saw old people, young people and the guy who plays Spencer on iCarly, and a nun.

"Right there," she pointed out on the screen. The nun.

"That's a nun, not a Muffis."

"What is a Muffis?"

"I don't know. You're the one who said it."

"When did they start calling Muffises nuns?"

By this time, I'm laughing so hard I'm crying. She's laughing at me.

"Nuns have never been muffises. They've always been nuns. Or sisters. Never a muffis."

We giggled until it hurt. About 10 minutes later, we calmed down.

"So what is a Muffis?" Syd asked. I started laughing all over again.

I couldn't wait to tell Jim. He's Catholic and proudly owns a pair of boxing nun puppets. Or boxing Muffis puppets. Whatever.

He chucked. "Muffis? Where did that come from?"

A couple of days went by with no Muffis discussion which is great because she's been going to vacation Bible school at a local Baptist Church. I didn't want her to ask if they have Muffises.

But this morning it started again.

Roman was snuggled by Sydney in bed. I went in to wake her up and all we could see of him was his front paws sticking out of the cover. When he heard us talking, he stuck his head partway out of the blanket.

"He looks like a Muffis," Sydney said.

"You mean a nun?"

"No, a Muffis, like on TV that night."

So I thought it would be a good time to talk about religions.

"Nuns..." I began.

"You mean Muffises."

Okay. "Muffises are very special women who are members of the Catholic Church. Daddy is Catholic. The Muffises are very special to his church. They are teachers and in many small churches do many of the duties a preacher would do. They devote their lives to God and to helping the church."

I wasn't sure what else to say. I'm not Catholic. I always thought I should be. I had a series of dreams when I was 19 that made me think the Catholic Church would have a huge role in my life. So, I went to the library and checked out a bunch of books about the Catholic Church. I always thought you could become anything if you could read enough about it. That's why I never read any of those Hobbit or vampire books. I've never had any desire to be either of those. Maybe a bad decision since vampires are very trendy right now. Anyway....

When Jim invited me to Mass for the first time, I was excited. The first time we went to his old church in Pine Bluff, the priest said, "Now, greet your neighbor with the sign of peace." There was only one peace sign I knew, and just as I was about to flash the Richard Nixon one when my mother in law quickly took my hand and shook it. "Peace be with you," she said, holding back a laugh. That wasn't in any of the books I'd read.

I think it's time to take Syd to Mass again. She went as a baby, but was too little to remember it. Poor Jim. He'll have his work cut out for him. Keeping me from doing the wrong gesture or drinking out of the Holy water fountain was always challenging enough. Now he'll have Muffis patrol, too.

No Pokemon at Vacation Bible School...So Far

Sydney attended her second night of Vacation Bible School last night. She was reluctant to go until learning it would not require waking up early. But, 5:30, she said works for her.

It's been a solid week of "Pokemon, Pokemon, Pokemon." It's the first thing out of her mouth in the mornings and the last thing she talks about before falling asleep.

So, when I picked her up from VBS Sunday night I felt my stomach flip flop when the director asked the whole group: "So, what did we learn about tonight?"

Sydney likes to answer questions. Her hand was the first to be raised. Since we're not members of the church, I figured the director didn't know her and would probably call on an older child.

"Sydney, tell me what we learned tonight."

Oh, no.

Sydney said they learned that Joseph was in jail and that they learned that God has a promise and we all have hope.

Whew. No Pokemon.

So last night, the same thing happened. Again, Sydney raised her hand. Again, the lady called on her. Sydney said that Joseph told the Pharaoh what his two dreams meant. She talked about the healthy cows and the sick ones and the healthy plants and the sick plants and gave Josephs' interpretation.

No mention of Darkrai.

I think he's the Pokemon that enters people's dreams.

Another whew.

Playing in the rain

I know we're not quite a month into summer vacation, but this has been a really great one. We are so blessed to have a little girl with a big imagination who loves to read (but often would rather write her own books), draw, bird watch, etc. She's never bored.

I've been working hard to complete a lesson plan by my monthly deadline, so she's been an extra good trooper. All she asked is that when I finished, we could play water games outside one afternoon.

I got my lesson plan submitted yesterday morning before she woke up. I'm lousy at nonfiction, but this one was about Stoicism which I like...which must mean I'm not a Stoic because sounds to me like they did not care much for "liking" anything. Then I got the word from my editor -- no revisions!

The water games were on!

So we decide that I will blow bubbles for her to pop by shooting them with her water gun. This translates into "Mom gets wet but I don't." LOL

We head to the door and notice it's sprinkling outside. She thought all plans were off. But it wasn't lightening or thundering, and we were playing water games, right? So, we went outside after all.

Sprinkles turned into a steady rain, still light but heavier than sprinkles. I clicked pictures with my camera phone to send to Jim. It's important that he knows we're having fun while he's working. The joke's really on me I guess -- he was dry.

Pretty soon, the bottom fell out of the clouds and I'd call it a monsoon, only without any damaging winds.

We stayed outside.

I knew we were safe because my mom hadn't called to tell me her NOAA weather radar was warning of a storm here. She always calls when that thing sounds its alarm.

One more picture snapped and sent to Jim: Syd playing in the deluge of water. His text message back was "God won that water game."

We played in the rain until the winds started and we could hear thunder in the distance. As I coaxed her inside, Syd said, "We've really got to play in the rain more often."

I think she's right.