Robots and Puke

Monday, 09 August 2010

Today I brought Owen to his first class of “Little Engineers: Robotics.” It’s a community education class that Jennifer signed him up for several months ago. We knew there’d be a new baby to deal with at this time, but we figured (correctly!) that this class would begin after the baby’s arrival and that Owen would probably like a class like this to give him something to do.

The class was advertised as being for First through Third graders. Owen is a Kindergartner, so he’s a little young for the class. But since it combines computers with robots with Legos, we figured it behooved us to advocate on his behalf.

I sat with Owen for the first few minutes. The teacher instructed everyone (there are ten kids in the class) to write their name on a name tag, and Owen was so nervous that he forgot the W. When I pointed this out to him, he meekly inserted the W in between the E and the N, so I guess his name is Oewn for the week. If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them it’s a Welsh name.

Before breaking into groups of two and getting started, the teacher asked each kid to say their name, hold old they are, and one fun thing that they did this summer. I whispered into Owen’s ear and reminded him that he can say he just got a new baby sister. When the teacher called on him, though, he just shook his head ‘no.’

Later, they broke into groups and Owen seemed to warm up to his partner (a young guy named Aaron). As we left, I asked him if he wanted to come back tomorrow, and he said he did. He also said: “Hey, I never got to tell anyone about Isla.” I reminded him that he was supposed to say that during the introductions, and he said he forgot.

Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Know what I’m sick of cleaning up? Puke.

No, not Isla’s little bits of spit-up. The cat’s smelly, yellowish-green vomit that she splays all over the carpet.

On Sunday, our cat Emmaline puked about 8 times over the course of 3 hours. This has happened before, and we just concluded that she ate something she shouldn’t have. She vomits at just about any opportunity she can, so much so that one of her nicknames is “Little Puker.” When she and her brother Oliver were kittens, I would sometimes give them little pieces of cheese or lettuce. Oliver would be fine with it, but Emmaline would search out a bit of carpet, and then regurgitate it for us.

Yesterday, she puked again about five or six times.

This morning, I was greeted to more puke on the floor.

We have a gate up, restricting her from coming into the bedrooms, but that doesn’t change the fact that I still have to clean up the puke. It’s a big ordeal, really: use paper towels to scoop up the big globs, pour water on it to soak up the rest, spray with this stuff that kills the germs, then more water to sop up the germ-killing stuff. Then dry. Normally, Jennifer and I would split this task, but I don’t want a nursing woman to get any crazy bacteria. I’ve tried ‘catching’ the vomit, but the cat prefers to mock me. Last night, for instance, she began heaving, and I set some newspaper right in front of her. She hacked and hacked right on top of the paper, but when the time came to upchuck the goods, she turned her head and purposely soiled the carpet.

When Owen and I got home from his class, there was more puke to clean up. So I took Emmaline to the vet. I don’t mind bringing my animals to the vet, really, because I love them and I don’t want them to suffer. What I hate, though, is that the vet’s never really know exactly what’s wrong. They just guess, do some procedures, and then send you home with a bill and instructions. The instructions generally end with “if that doesn’t help, come back and spend more money.” Ugh.

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

Fun topic:

Isla left the City of St. Paul for the first time today.

Owen was invited to a play-date with his (former) preschool classmates at the Woodbury Community Center, and so we all ventured there. One of the mom’s had a gift for Isla (and she thoughtfully included something for Owen), and I spent the better part of three hours running through too-small tubes with Owen and his buddies. The play area is a fun habitrail, but it’s really geared for people who are shorter than four feet. For those who don’t know, I am taller than four feet.

Not-so-fun topic:

I also brought my computer with me to the community center today. There are a library and a cafe’ in the same building, both of which generally equate to free internet access. I was able to hop online for about five minutes, and then it just cut out on me. This is the same thing that happened at a coffee shop last week, and at the co-op a few days ago. In fact, the only place I can consistently remain online is at Owen’s community ed. class (which is held inside an elementary school). Even then, though, the hook-up is quite slow. As in: I click on a page, go get a drink of water, then come back and see if the page has finished loading.

So, either several unrelated places are conspiring to keep me off the WWW, or something is suddenly configured wrong on my computer. I had Jennifer get online today and set up an appointment for me at the “Genius Bar.”

Not-at-all-fun topic:

Before going to the community center today, I attempted to confine our cat to the front closet. Well, that didn’t last. Despite being ill and hungry, she mustered the strength to move the gate (she’s too fat to jump over it). Thankfully, however, there was no puke for me to clean up. The vet had called while we out, so I called her back and told her what I’d observed in the past 24 hours: the cat peed, finally. She only puked twice, and hadn’t puked in about 5 hours. She was eating. The vet said things sounded positive – and that perhaps she would get better now. She recommended I purchase some generic Pepcid A/C.

Owen and I went out and bought some. When we arrived home, Jennifer said the cat still hadn’t puked, marking 8 hours of such success. But, a few minutes later, she puked again. I forced a Pepcid A/C pill down her throat (which was more traumatic for Owen than for Emmaline), and then went to bed.

I’m really glad to have to spend all this time and money on my cat, especially since there’s a new baby to care for, and I’m not getting any overtime at my job right now (oh – and they also shorted my paycheck, too).