opal | Good Times with Jess

I love summer! And I’m sooo ready to put my kids on the bus. Any bus really. It’s time for them to gooo.

They started the summer off with a 90/10 split. 90% getting along and 10% ready to kill each other.

I don’t want to say the split has completely inverted, but maybe?

Yesterday we were fighting over one Lego brick. And when I say we, I do not mean me.

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I cannot emphasize enough how my kids can create a fight about ANYTHING.

But also it can’t possibly really be about one Lego brick. Maybe it’s about school’s starting. Maybe it’s because BB has decided she’ll wake up at 6am to get in the swing of things for middle school, but isn’t going to bed any earlier.

That’s definitely not helping.

RB, my 6-year-old, LOVES Legos and builds all the time. BB, my 10-year-old, likes legos and likes to play legos with RB.

RB worships the ground BB walks on and would much rather play with BB than on her own.

BB requests I partition off the yard so RB is not allowed to approach her. That goes as well as you’d think.

Playing Legos together usually works for everyone. They have plenty of sets, and many builds that are original creations.

Some Legos started off as BB’s and some as RB’s, but a clear delineation does not last long. If we were in a court of law with any one Lego brick, a jury would never be convinced beyond a reasonable doubt to reach a verdict on ownership.

(Yes I’ve been consumed by the Clancy trial and jury verdicts are on my mind.)

If by some small miracle my kiddos really did manage to keep track piece by piece, Opal the Destructo Cat is on the scene and has confiscated a fair share of bricks.

We keep cleaning out treasures from under the couch, but that’s not as exciting as it once was.

At first we found things from years ago. Now it’s just a 6-pack of mice from yesterday.

In case it’s not obvious from my writing, but I hope it is! I live for all things funny.

When I’m not losing my mind over a sibling fight, I’m trying to incorporate jokes and imitations of inanimate objects into my parenting.

BB said I did my best one yet this summer. Next time you see me, I’ll be happy to do it for you. I was one of her poor poops she didn’t want to let out at camp.

Which in retrospect is ironic, because I spent the summer yelling at everyone,

“NO MORE POTTY TALK!!!”

It’s also an uphill battle, because everyone in my family except I can fart on command. Arguably a very amazing talent.

When I say no more potty talk and no one says anything, but then BB gives me a side-eye and farts, I’ve got nothing.

BB gave me the highest parenting compliment I could ever dream of. From the back of the car she said,

“You’re the funniest mom!”

“I AM?!?!?!? YOU REALLY THINK SO!??!?!?!??!”

BB dislikes my over-enthusiastic reactions. She immediately hedged her bets,

“Well you’re the funniest mom I know and I don’t know that many.”

Still! I’ll take it!

And lest you think this summer was just beach, Legos, and poop imitations, we also have a house project which may or may not be nearing completion. Send thoughts and prayers.

Captain has spent years building or intending to build a retaining wall along our driveway.

The concrete was poured this week and the forms come off today for a big reveal.

Captain presented the math to me the other day on how much he spent on all things wall versus what it would’ve cost if someone had come and built it for us 3 years ago.

You may be surprised to hear we didn’t really save much money, BUT we’ve had the joy of the process. Which is priceless?

RB DOES love tools, building, and helping her dad, so that has SOME value. Maybe not 3 years worth, but who knows?!

When her future partner tells me RB is on year whatever of some unfinishable house or car project, I’ll enjoy a commiseration drink with them and pray it was nature not nurture.

While we’re talking about nature versus nurture, there’s BB’s sense of humor. She told me,

“I’m funny just like you!”

“You are so funny!!!” She really is. Yes I’m biased, but she is.

Then BB added,

“Yeah, I’m funny and then I get annoying.”

“Really?”

“Like you.”

Wheels up in a week. No stowaways allowed

School vacation week and I’m home alone! As much as I love traveling with or without my children. I’m also a HUGE fan of being home alone without them.

And I’m not totally alone. Captain is here and there’s a new guy Opal snoozing in the corner.

Our kitten has arrived! Opal Shane Prada Curtis. Aka Opie. Opes. Opester. Opalicious. Opaltastic. Opalite.

BB named him. We may have been listening to Taylor Swift.

Opal sounds like he might be a she, but he is a he. Or a they. His testicles are long gone.

He is a love and an absolute maniac. He’s a decent split of sweet, sleepy cuddles and pure chaos.

As much as I would identify as a dog person, Opal’s immediate and consistent use of the litter box is EVERYTHING. So maybe I’m a dog person currently in my cat era.

I’m also pretty sure I’ve lost my mind.

It started when I bought the robotic self-cleaning litter box, then a cat tree that goes up to our ceiling, then cat toys, a self-filtering water fountain bowl, cat beds, and last but not least, a cat treadmill.

As I pushed aside kid toys in an already overflowing living room, Captain looked on in disbelief. There was still no cat in our house, but I was ready.

Fast forward to last night when Opal slept for most of the night on Captain’s chest.

I am a love-to-snuggle-while-I’m-awake person, then I want to roll over, have no contact with anyone and fall asleep.

Captain will very happily snuggle while awake and asleep, so Opal picked the right person.

Although really Opal’s person is BB. When she’s here, we close Opal in with her at night. Which is great.

I thought Opal was going to start World War III with my girls having a cat fight for the ages, but not the biggest surprise, RB is somewhat terrified.

Before Opal’s arrival, the original plan had been that we’d try to get Opal to alternate nights sleeping with one kid then the other.

That was probably always going to be impossible, so a near miss on that crisis. RB doesn’t scream every time the cat comes near her, but enough that he’s learned she shouldn’t be his first choice.

If you ask RB what she wants to be when she grows up she says,

“A singer, but not the main one. A veterinarian. A soccer player and a tennis player.”

So after another high pitch scream when the three-pound kitten rubbed her leg, I mentioned,

“It doesn’t seem like you’d enjoy being a veterinarian.”

RB scowled at me, marched to her room, slammed her door and said,

“Don’t let that cat in here. I don’t want him messing up my stuff.”

BB is obsessed with him enough for all of us. Opal and BB have found true love and RB has time for self-discovery before applying for vet school.

After 30,000 cat photos in the last week, it looks like my photo app will now be dedicated to Opal. What kids? Haven’t seen them.