Real Mommy Awards

So, I was awarded the Blog on Fire award yesterday. 


Because I'm awesome, that's why!


Anyway, I love that we're able to award and recognize our fellow bloggers whom we like and admire. 

What we need are some real life awards!  To, y'know, make us feel special, and to help us refrain from banging our heads on the wall.

I've created a few awards, and I pass these bad boys on to any mama who can relate. 

Cheers to real life!

Happy Friday!

His name is Chloe...

Old pic. Me likey my kitty.

My boy cat has a girl name. Chloe Louise. I call him Chloe de Ballsac when the kids aren't around so he feels more manly. 

Chloe and Emily are both eleven.  Difference is, of course, she's a spaz and he's more like a pants pulled up to the armpits-black socks and sandals kind of eleven.

When Bob and I moved to our first apartment we weren't allowed pets.  I was sad to leave Chloe with my parents, but I wanted the apartment.  A few months after we moved in, Bob sat me down on the couch and made me close my eyes.  When I opened them there was a brand new litter box,  food dishes, and other cat paraphernalia.  He had made a deal with the landlord, and Chloe was coming to live with his mama.

My husband rocks.  I believe I've mentioned that before

Of course, our tiny apartment made it interesting for litter box placement.  Bathroom was too small. Bedrooms were out.  Nothing says romance for newlyweds like cat pee smell, eh?  I refused to have it in the kitchen, that gave me the willies.  So, it went in a corner in the hallway. 

Nothing like walking down the hallway and locking eyes with your cat while he's taking a pooper. 

Chloe circa 2005, in first apartment.  Riding the catnip train.
He'll  cut a bitch.

Chloe has a few quirks, he's afraid of big spiders and thunderstorms.  He loves straws, q-tips, and he will get in the bathroom cupboard or a purse, and get a tampon.  He'll wrestle the wrapper off, separate the cotton from the applicator, and then toss it around for hours.  It's not awkward at all explaining this to people who don't know this fun fact when you come upon a tampon laying in the living room. 

He's my protector (in his mind).  He sleeps with me most nights, and if he hears a suspicious noise he puts himself between said noise and me. Chloe's a badass.

He sleeps next to me. Bob and I are three deep most nights, sometimes there's a kid or two and a cat. We need a bigger bed. 

He loves chips and dip. 

He hung out with me when I was stuck in bed for a few weeks at the beginning of my pregnancy with Noah.  We watched movies, ate Cinnamon Toast Crunch and chatted.  Well, I chatted, he just listened while patiently waiting for me to finish my cereal so he could have the milk.  Typical male.

Chloe's been through lots of babies. He's not a fan.  Every time we bring a new one home he rolls his eyes and walks away.  For some reason he lets Elise give him hugs and squeal "kitty" in his ear.  Even he can't resist her cuteness.

He's been a great companion.  He has a bit of a lower spine issue, and I thought we were going to lose him a few times.  He's still kicking, though.  I love my little guy.

Here's to you, Chloe de Ballsac!

Chloe this morning.  He's just pretending to be irritated.

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