It's been another hectic week here. Goober started throwing up on Monday and he's been sick all week. I don't understand how he gets sick so much more often than the other kids. Even as babies and toddlers, T and Princess were rarely sick. It seems like Goober gets sick at least once a month. I feel so bad for him.
He finally seems to be on the upswing, though. He managed to eat crackers and some chicken nuggets today, and now he's asleep. I hope he doesn't wake up crying every hour or so tonight like he has been. I'm barely functioning with my sleep so interrupted, and it doesn't help that I have awful insomnia and I'm lucky to get 4 hours of sleep a day.
My cat Little Fart had an accident this week. The boyfriend told me that he saw him outside and he'd been in a fight but wouldn't let him near him. When I went to get him, he looked gnarly. His nose was bloody and torn up, he had bite marks on his face and near his ear, and he was a mess.
I took him to the vet and found out things were worse than I imagined. They took him to the back to clean him off and examine him because he had an accident and peed all over himself in the carrier. The vet came in and asked me if I lived in a high rise building. I was confused, since I live in a 3 story cape cod, and the cat was definitely outside when he got hurt.
It turns out that not only did he get attacked by an animal, but it appeared that he fell out of a tree or off something else high up. His nose was bleeding because he split his palate and broke some bones in his face. He also had brain swelling and damage from the fall. I had to leave him there to get steroids and pain medicine.
The good news is that his x-rays showed all his internal organs are intact. I got to bring him home with antibiotics and pain meds. They can't do anything about the palate or the broken bones in his face-they should eventually heal on their own. He got some stitches in his lip, and I probably have to take him to get a fractured tooth pulled at some point.
I'm just happy to have him home and doing alright. I was so scared when I found out he fell so hard. I never realized he would try and climb a tree to escape from an attacking animal. It kills me that I will never know what the heck happened. The vet also told me his back claws were shredded from trying to escape. He's happy to be home, laying on the couch, and attempting to eat with his cone collar on (so he doesn't pull out his stitches).
Yeah, it was a crazy week. I made corned beef hash with poached eggs and brownies with irish cream swirls for St. Paddy's day today. The kids loved helping me make the brownies. The best part is that they turned out gooey and under baked-I love half raw brownies, but I'll give the kids the more cooked edges.
In the morning we're going up to the house in the Catskills for the first time this season. I'm excited because I love it up there. It is my favorite place to be. There's a huge parade in my town tomorrow and I can't be far enough away from it.
I always hated the parade growing up because my town is mainly Irish Catholics who get crazy drunk all day. My parent's house was one block away from the parade route, and I hated that no matter what I did, I couldn't escape it. It was a little better as I got older, and I even went and watched it from my old job (across the street from my parent's house) a few times.
Then I moved. My landlord and his son throw a party every year on the parade day. This wouldn't bother me so much if the parents who were there gave a crap about what their kids were doing. Last year was a disaster. Kids were opening the gates to my backyard and running around all over it. I asked them nicely to leave, since my daughter was getting upset with strangers on her turf. A couple minutes later, they would be back in my yard.
The kids weren't too young to know better either. They were 8-14 years old. Their parents were too busy getting drunk to do anything. It got even worse when the kids started terrorizing my outdoor cats and attempting to come in my house. I stood in my backyard for the entire afternoon, chasing kids away and getting frustrated. I don't know what the kids or the parents were thinking. I would never let my kids run wild and aggravate people like that.
So this year, T, Princess, and I will be gone and I won't have to deal with the urge to smack someone's poorly behaved child (or a poorly behaved drunk adult). The boyfriend is staying home with Goober (I don't want him to throw up in the car-it's a 2 1/2 hour drive each way), and hopefully, he'll scare the kids from the yard. I'm sure his BB rifle can help with that.