Phew, the weekend of company and birthday is over, and I am now the mother of a ten-year-old girl who owns two kittens.
Marcy and Bill arrived Friday midday, and we had a lovely visit with them. Gabe made steaks for dinner upon my request--Marcy had just returned from 10 days in Korea visiting Gabe's... brother... and I thought she'd want something very American comfort-food. (Plus I love steak.) The steaks he made, though, were about the best beef I have ever tasted. I swooned when I put the first bite in my mouth, and I am no Scarlett O'Hara.
My mom and Denny came for brunch Saturday morning so we had two set of 'rents, then they all left at once and the kids and I set off to get kittens. Or so I thought. Longish story pretty short: the Vashon Island Pet Protectors wanted me to agree I'd keep their one kitten indoors until he was 6 months old, which I think is ridiculous. So we left with sad birthday girl and no kitty.
David beat us home by about 15 seconds, and then we had a houseful again, with his three kids and my three kids romping around and Ty barking his fool head off. Yucky health stuff was happening with D's partner, so he was on the phone all afternoon and I was poised for his precipitous departure, but she improved and he didn't have to jet. Gabe returned and busted out a pretty badass sushi spread for all of us. I had requested sushi as a Mother's Day gift and we combined it with Noelani's birthday dinner request of same.
D's daughter Maddy stayed the night, and he and his boys caught a 10-something ferry. Sunday was Noelani's actual birthday, so I made pancakes for the four of them. Gabe had left early to try to sell "Everybody Wants Our Meat in their Mouths" t-shirts at the Gay Pride Parade. My dad and Yvonne came over around 3, and before that I braved a 4-kid, 1-adult outing to the grocery store, video store, and library. Needless to say, I needed a nap when we got home, but instead dove into the making of some intensely delicious bleu-cheese-and-dill potato salad.
Dad and Y started in on my dirty dishes as soon as they arrived. This is typical of most of my family, including some family not blood related to me, like Natasha. Is it something about me, or them, or the chemical combination of both, that induces dish-washing in anyone who comes near me?
Our neighbors from up the street randomly stopped by while we were taking a break from cooking dinner, and suddenly it felt like there were 20 more people there, although they had only brought two adults, three children, and two dogs. "Radish," what a cute name for a rat terrier! He and Ty played really well, although Ty's form of playing seems to involve serious attempts to deafen nearby creatures through the amplitude and volume of his barking.
Neighbors left, we ate burgers, parents left, and then it was just me and 4 kids again--almost seemed calm! Gabe got home later so we could jointly sit around waiting for the girls to finish watching a romantic comedy which was almost certainly too adult for them. ("The Holiday." Cameron Diaz: "Did we--you know--" Male lead: "Have sex? No, I try not to do that with women when they're passed out from drinking." Great.)
Today the kids and I went into the city to drop off Maddy. We hung out with David and his boys for awhile at Greenlake, then busted down to Southcenter to do a kitten deal in the parking lot. I had tried contacting another adoption shelter on Sunday, but just as I was about to shout "let's get in the car!" I thought I'd check their adoption regulations first, and sure enough, another doozy: They don't adopt kittens under one year of age to families with children under age seven. What the FUCK?)
But now, one hefty "rehoming fee" later, we are the proud new family of two adorable orange-and-white tabby boys. Unfortunately, Noelani is thinking of naming them after the boy characters in Twilight. The only reason she hasn't done so already is that she's concerned this might make people think she's obsessed with the book. "Do you think people will think that, Mom?" "Um, yes."
I'm steering toward names like "Fezzik and Inigo" or "Cheese and Crackers" or "Happy and Birthday," but maybe I'm over the hill now. I guess "Beavis and Butthead" are out of the question. "James and Jean-Luc" would be a bit esoteric for Noelani. How about "Trouble and Tribble." "Seven" and "Nine"? "Creamsicle" and "Sherbet"? I'm getting sleepy. Apparently I'm not going to come up with either the perfect set of names or a pithy little something with which to wrap up this post. Ah, well.