I’m off work tomorrow, and will spend a portion of it at the fourth birthday party of my delectable niece. Upon arriving home, I imagine that I will attack my office with high abandon and perhaps even make room for all of the beads that are currently ensconced on our otherwise lovely dining room table. Most of my stash is living in the sturdy and quite lovely fabric-covered storage boxes from The Container Store. At present, I have seven different colors/patterns and am trying to keep some semblance of control over the stash by keeping all the purple in one box, all the red in another, neutrals, etc. However, after installing ten feet of birch and white elfa shelving on the far wall of my office (all by my ownself!), I deposited *quite* a lot of sock yarn into the sliding drawers, dk weight into another, bulky, yet another. WIPs found a home in another drawer. I added these Colibri sachets to fend off Der Stinkin Moths. I’d prefer something fragrance-free in deference to the asthma-stricken Princess Pyewacket, but the fragrance is what keeps the moths at bay, so I may as well have a scent that pleases me. They contain “100% pure natural botanical essences from tea tree, vetiver, peppermint, lemongrass, neem, and others in a fine sandalwood powder base.” Neem? I lined up my knitting books and pamphletted patterns above the leather dresser shelf workspace, am thinking about a binder for my page-protected patterns,  notions found a one-runner drawer to call home.

I’m feeling manic, more than a little. If I sound so to you, please don’t hesitate to let me know.

On to the good stuff! I have pictures to share of the babies, who are pretty much babies no more. Mojo and Teazyka turn eight months old tomorrow; it’s amazing to imagine that they used to fit in the palms of my hands.

Mojo, sitting where he knows he ought not be

Teazyka, pretending I can't see him in the kitchen

Mojo, *what* did you say you were faxing?

Teazyka, sleeping with his wubbie

Both boys were neutered a week ago, and once the area was shaved for surgery, the cause of Teazyka’s “leaking” was discovered. He has a congenital urogenital abnormality: his penis, normal-sized for an 8-month old kitten, had never descended due to the opening not being large enough to let it come out, so he was urinating in a tiny pinhole stream, but not all of it was coming out, and it would dribble out  later on, anointing our house with a lovely, lion’s den aroma. During the neutering, our wonderful vet, Dr. Andrea Jacobson of Country Cats in Croton-on-Hudson, NY, found urine beneath his skin, and took some for a urinalysis. She found bacteria in his urine, and he is on antibiotics. After consulting with a colleague, Dr. Green, in Manhattan, she decided that she and Dr. Pirotin of Main Street Cat Hospital in Elmsford, NY, would surgically enlarge the existing opening to accommodate his penis. They performed the surgery to the tune of a little over a thousand dollars, and Teazyka is recuperating, mostly hanging out in my office, where there are lots of snuggly spaces to accommodate his megaphone. He’ll get his sutures out on the 17th, and an ultrasound of his kidneys to see if/how badly they have been damaged. We’re on pins and needles about this, but it’s better knowing than not.

Yep, he’s stuck wearing an Elizabethan collar for another 13 days. Holy baby jeebus. And you would not believe where I have to put K-Y Jelly.

Teazyka, asking for his own Facebook account

Mojo & Teazyka enjoying their first bit of fresh air August 5, 2008

Mojo (left), and Teazyka (right), September 19, 2008

Enjoying the fresh air is a nice pastime for the brothers.

We need one of those covers for the roll. G says,

My stress level the past few weeks has been on a real high, and although I don’t think that being bipolar had anything to do with it, although, it couldn’t have helped. Start with a stupid issue with the retailer Eileen Fisher (do NOT use a gift card online in conjunction with another form of payment for the balance; you will be charged the full amount until the gift card clears. Nowhere on their site does it state this, and they did this with my debit card for $270.80. They ended up overnighting my order for free.) Then came the aforementioned COBRA debacle, which was finally resolved. My father was generous enough to loan us a thousand dollars cash to cover the first month’s payment, with the understanding that as soon as we sell my car (this week), we’ll pay him back. That’s right, we’re selling my car to pay for our health insurance. We really don’t need an extra car with G working from home, I mean, if there’s an emergency and he needs to go somewhere, he can always call a neighbor or take a cab, right? And if he has to take one of the cats to the emergency vet 25 miles away in White Plains? Oh well. I need to get the brakes checked on the Toyota (my little VW is now sitting in front of our house, detailed and cleaned, devoid of bumper stickers, not accruing any more mileage), the brakes feel like they slip in the rain and snow. Niiice.

Anyway, Ryan from COBRA called me the day after I sent in my Express Mailed my money order to tell me that they had indeed received it and no, there would not be any waiting time for it to clear, but that it would take approximately 48 “business hours” for my enrollment to start. Le sigh. Whatever. I’d done everything I could, now it was in their hands. I reiterated that I was out nearly $1400 for prescriptions and let him know that my father had loaned us the $912.81 that I had sent in, and that I was selling my car in order to pay for the following months’ payments. Dig, dig. He told me to call the next day to see how things were progressing.

Not an hour later, my cell phone rang. It was Ryan. “Your enrollment is final, you can go pick up any prescriptions you need, and you can get reimbursed from the pharmacy. They can resubmit the claims and refund you the money.” I started to cry.

We always file and extension for our income taxes, so October 15th is our April 15th. G got the call on the 9th that the taxes were ready and that we could come pick them up. Over the past months, there’s been lots of back and forth, requesting documentation, numbers, all sorts of stuff. We figured that they would ask for everything they needed. Hah!

I went down to the accountant’s before work on the 10th, around 12:30. I picked up the papers, and got back in my car. I opened up the thick blue folder to take a peek and almost fainted. The amount owed was a little over $14,000; $8,000 federal, $6,000 state. Due TODAY. I walked unsteadily back to the accountant’s office and tried not to freak out. I asked if our accountants were there (it’s a group), no, they weren’t. Another accountant in the office came down to try to make heads or tails of our return on the fly, and started in on me. “You have rental property? And you didn’t do this? And this? And this?” Et cetera. I said, “I sell jewelry for a living, my husband is a computer consultant. You are our accountants. WE DO WHAT YOU TELL US TO DO.” Finally, he said that our guys would be in on Monday, and that we could talk to them then. “But what about the fact that they payment is due TODAY?” I said. “So you’ll pay a little penalty, it won’t be much, a few dollars.” Easy for you to say, the penalty is probably a percentage, and any percentage of $14k is enough. Whatever, they weren’t there, and obviously, no one was going to reach out to them for us.

Part Two, coming soon!

What’s been taking up all of my available time? These two, born June 7, 2008:

Yevgeny Mungojerrie (Mojo) 2008.07.14

Which one starts the car?

Our house is a very, very, very fine house...

Harry sniffing Ivan Rumpelteazer (Teazyka) 2008.07.22

Tigger is more than sixteen times Mojo's size (16.4).

Learning how to play

Welcome to our little family, Yevgeny Mungojerrie aka Mojo or Zhenyka (one pound, 3.5 ounces as of today), and Ivan Rumpelteazer aka Teazyka (pronounced “teeska,” one pound, 3.8 ounces). We went all the way out to Long Island City in Queens to get them. We had only planned on taking one, but when we got to our friend M’s house and I picked up Teazyka, G picked up several of the others, and Mojo fell asleep in his arms. The conversation went like this:

G: (with puppy dog eyes) Can we keep him?

Me: Are you sure?

G: Yes.

Me: Are you really sure?

G: Ask me again, and I’ll say no.

Me: M, I think we’re taking two.

M: Yay!!!1!!

They had adopted out nearly all of the eight, and our guy was close to last, if not the last. Our amazing vet (who makes housecalls) has already been to see them, and exclaimed, “Oh my god! They’re so intense! They’re so tiny!” Which leads us to believe that they were indeed premature. Also, there were eight kittens total in the litter (all of whom survived). G has taken some more pictures, the first of which are posted over at Cats, Sheep, & Penguins, along with the whole story. He’s shot and processed more pictures; they’ll be up soon.

We had a vegetable garden when I lived with my parents, and planted all sorts of things, including fat peas, corn, watermelon, and, you guessed it, pumpkins. I ran inside to tell G about this miraculous event, but he was rather nonplussed. “We did throw a boatload of seeds out there. One was bound to grow.” I’ve been watching the not one but TWO vines growing with anticipation. Today when I wentout to take some pictures, I spotted yet another vine growing! Here’s the evidence:

Hello? Cinderella? Your chariot will be ready soon.

About the dentist: Years ago I was traumatized by a very evil man disguised as a dentist. I’ll tell you who he is if you email me. He used to scream at his hygienist while working on my mouth, broke off a file in a root canal, called me “a big baby,” and is, I suspect, a misogynist (No man I’ve spoken to has anything bad to say about him, but all the women do). He also cut the underside of my tongue with the drill, you know the part that attaches your tongue to the floor of your mouth? Took forever to heal. Add to that nightmare the fact that while deep in the throes of unmedicated bipolar disorder, I wasn’t too good at taking care of myself, teeth included, I ended up with a very sorry state of affairs in my mouth. So for years I was going to this Goebbels with a drill, too afraid to say anything or to speak up for myself, and then I moved to an apartment across the street for Dr. Kenneth Magid’s office. A saint. There used to be a sign on his front door with a picture of Ziggy hiding behind a dentist’s chair with the legend, “We Cater To Cowards.” Seemed to be the guy for me. He, along with all of the people in his office, have a wonderful bedside manner, don’t treat me like an idiot or a leper, and the best part? They give me “sweet air” for every session (I’ve gotten good enough that I don’t need it for cleanings, but there was a time…). He is an absolute superhero in my book. If you live in Westchester County or even one of the surrounding counties and don’t mind driving a bit for a fantabulous dentist, I can send you a card that gets you a discount for the referral.

Also more détante among the furry ones:

Next on the list: call the cat-sitter!