I’m just sharing photo’s that I’m really proud of.

Tim got himself a new camera so we’re playing about with it and tonight while we all sat in the back yard soaking up the sunset, Dude started playing in the funny dead grass things that have blown in from the empty field across the road.

They’re a total pain in the ass and despite the fact I keep throwing them over the neighbors fence under the cover of darkness, they keep showing up back on our side of the fence (it’s an empty house, so no, they are not throwing them back)

Anyway, they make for a very playful kitty cat and he’s very photogenic…which I love.

I just really like these photo’s of him.

I remember a very specific time in my life when  I would go and visit Mum at work after school. I was probably about ten years old. She worked in a child care center, which meant that more often than not, she worked with girls fresh out of school.

There was this one girl there named Michelle and I thought she was the bee’s knee’s. She was pretty and smart and skinny and I admired her so much. I wanted to be just like her.

I remember at that age I just couldn’t wait to grow up. I couldn’t wait to be like Michelle, who at the time was probably in her early twenties.

But everyone would tell me that I should savour this time in my life. That I shouldn’t rush to grow up and it wasn’t as much fun as it looked. They all told me about the time in their life when they wished that they were grown up and how much they wish they were my age again.

When I was about 18 I also had the same feeling’s about my brother’s girlfriend Maree. I wanted to be just like her. She was professional and smart and witty. She was lot’s of fun to be around and I just wanted to grow up so bad so that I could be as cool as her.

And here I am, either ten or twenty years on from that, still wondering what it’s going to be like when I grow up.

I’ve graduated from school, I’ve completed a few college diploma’s. I drive a car! I’ve had sex, done drugs and been on all night drinking binges more times than I can count. I don’t have a curfew. I’ve been married now coming on six years and I have a two year old son. We live out of home, we pay our own bill’s and we make all of our own choices.

Shouldn’t I feel grown up by now? I’ve been out of home for ten years now. Shouldn’t I feel different? Shouldn’t the world look better somehow?? When does one go from being whatever it is they are to being grown up??

Dude wont go out all day. He will go to the door like he wants to go out fifteen times but then cowers away like some huge dog is waiting just outside to eat him up.

But come night time, when I feel obligated to let him out because he’s been cooped up all day, he wont come back for hours at a time.

Last night, we figured out why. There are hundreds of frogs out there!

Dude, as I have said before…is the best cat ever. But right now, and many times throughout every single day, I want to strangle him. Right now, Dude and I are fighting. It’s a battle of will’s and I just don’t think I’m winning.

Dude is an inside cat. Not because I force him to be an inside cat but because he likes to be inside. The only time he really likes to go outside is if WE go outside. Even then, he wont stray much more than a few meter’s from where we are.

So to set the scene. At the old house, Dude was locked in the bathroom overnight, because if I let him stay out then he sleeps on my face and is in to everything he shouldn’t be. But here the only place to lock him is the laundry. But he doesn’t like that, even though he has always been locked up overnight. In the laundry he has put his paw under the door and scratched and meowed to be let out ALL BLOODY NIGHT!

The problem with that is that the laundry is close to Jaxon’s room. While I couldn’t hear Dude from the other end of the house, Jaxon could and if Jaxon doesn’t sleep, mama don’t sleep either. So for the last three nights I’ve had to suck it up and let Dude run free range overnight.

I’ve left the laundry door open with kitty litter in it for him. Because for some reason Dude has forgotten how to hold it for the night, even though for the last year he did perfectly while locked in the bathroom.

So three nights in a row now Dude has slept out. Three nights in a row now I’ve noticed that he’s not used his kitty litter tray. Until the morning. After I have made him go outside with Mexxi.

This pisses me off. This morning I caught him in the act. I caught him before he went and threw him out the laundry door. He walked around the house, through the back door, in to the laundry and tried to go in his tray. So I threw him out again. He walked around the house, came in and tried again. So this time I threw him out and closed the back door. So he came around and meowed to get back in for 20 minutes. When I ignored him he climbed the security door.

I just know that if I don’t let him in to go in his tray, he’s going to sit at that door ALL day and meow at me and scratch at the glass door to be let in. I know that when I finally say screw it and let him in, he’s going to go right in and use the litter tray.

This is only a little bit of a bigger complaint, but I don’t have time to list the other shit Dude’s been getting up to in the last week or two. Don’t get me started on a cat that will not go outside during the day but spends the night sitting at windows meowing to get out.

Under the Laundry Door

This is Jaxon’s new bike. Or, I should say, it’s not new. His grandpa Ted (my Dad) has been giving Jaxon things ahead of his physical ability since he was born. He got this bike for him when he was three months old. We’ve had it in storage but during the move Jaxon found it. And loves it! He’s so cute riding around on this thing, and he’s so good at it. Considering at the EDC they have bikes like this and for the last few months Jaxon has just sat on them unable to move, this is pretty impressive. The video is of the first night he’d ever been on it.
http://www.vimeo.com/2131845

Apparently he’s saying “kitty cat” but I just can’t hear it!

This is a photo of Mexxi just after getting her nail’s cut at the vets. I tried to get a video, because she’s a vicious little thing when it comes to getting this done. But she was quite good. Normally I come out of the clinic with my arms and chest scratched to shreds and the vet normally get’s growled at, snarled at and snapped at. So the video is very mild and I can’t get it to upload at the moment. I’ll try again next time we get her nails cut.