In the middle of the night; episode 11 or "Meow"?!

OK, we've finally broken Aeron of the habit of waking up her parents in the middle of the night. It's been a marvelous improvement!

So you can imagine my annoyance at being woken by the cat last night. There I was, at 2am, sleeping peacefully, when I hear the cat plaintively meowing in the living room. We have a vaulted ceiling, so the meows were echoing throughout the house.

I snarl under my breath and throw back the covers, intending to stomp downstairs and figure out what Mitzi's damage is. Then I hear the soft trill from the kitten sleeping at the foot of the bed, in her usual spot. What the heck?! Our cat is asleep....so who is meowing downstairs?!?

I head downstairs, flipping on some lights as I go and, in the living room, I find a skittish, plump, tiger tabby yelling to get out the front door. I've seen this kitty before; he belongs to the new neighbors across the cul-de-sac.

"What are you doing in here?" I whisper to the cat. I'm not sure why. I open the front door and the cat makes a top-speed run for it.

"Huh." I climbed the stairs, shaking my head, and fell back into bed.

An amusing coda to my tale: Kayla gets up this morning and tells me about the weird dream she had last night. There was a cat in her room, meowing at her, and it wasn't Mitzi. She open her door to let the cat out and went back to bed. Next she dreamed she was Charles Manson, being sentenced to death.

"The first part wasn't a dream, kid. The neighbors cat got in our house somehow." I told her. "But the Manson part, that was weird."

Small triumphs

It's the little things, you know?

Last night for dinner, I made pasta e fagioli, a bean and pasta soup. Complete with buttery, garlic croûtons made from home-made bread. Where's the triumph in that, you ask?

First, one of Cameron's buddies was over, and he didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay and eat with us.

Next, I had to threaten Cameron with a frying pan to keep him out of the kitchen 'till dinner time. He kept snitching croûtons and was drooling in my soup. (he is in a growth spurt and eating a lot!)

The best part was Aeron. She begged me, with big blue eyes tearing up, for plain pasta. It had been a while since I'd made this and like any other kid, she views new kinds of food with deep suspicion. I didn't have any patience to deal with her issues, so I served her what everyone else was eating, soup with pasta garnished with croûtons. Aeron shlumped over to the table, whining all the way. But with Cameron giving enthusiastic encouragement, she tried her soup. Then, she ate it, every last bit. And then declared dinner "scrum-dum-delicious!"

Miles & I told her how very proud we were of her for trying something new, and then gave her ice cream for dessert.

You parents out there will understand; this is a big deal!

Claire wouldn't touch her soup. Luckily, she was sitting next to Cameron, who manfully volunteered to eat it for her. The rule in our house is: you eat what's offered or you don't eat; your choice. To her credit, Claire went to bed having eaten zero dinner without complaining. This is another win for the parents!

4 years old, and she's got it figured out

Claire has a thing for this boy at preschool. His name is Miles and he's actually a kindergartner, who then comes to preschool the other half of the day. Miles hasn't responded well to Claire's declarations of love. She asked him to marry her a couple of months back, and she was shot down in flames.

Last Friday after school, she told me it was Miles' birthday. "He brought cupcakes!" she said.

"Did you all sing happy birthday?" I asked.

"Yup. But I didn't kiss him."

"You didn't? Why not?" I inquired.

She looked at me, and said in a disgusted tone, "He doesn't want to marry me! He doesn't get kisses!"

Words to live by, kid.

Rose junkie

I think I have a problem. It seems I'm addicted to roses. I'm apparently completely unable to stop buying bare root roses for my garden. Just yesterday, I bought 6! Which brings me to a total of 12 new roses this spring.

Where am I planting all these flowers, I hear you ask? Well, I had to rip out a hedge to make space. I now have a total of 25 rose bushes in my front garden.

My husband goes through this every year. He smiles and tolerates my addiction, for a limited time. When I came home from a trip to Home Depot, ostensibly to purchase mulch, with 4 more roses, he put his foot down.

"OK, enough!"

That fine, I was running out of room anyway. Well, until I rip out some more of the lawn.