Survival Instincts

I had an incident this week that I am not proud of. In #GeneralConference we have been encouraged to listen to the Holy Ghost. I thought I was doing that but apparently not well.

I had made dinner for a neighbor who just had a baby. I also was trying to prepare our portion of it while I took the meal to the neighbor. In a pot on my stove I had some water and a double-boiler steaming pan on top. I had placed my broccoli in it and checked the water level just before walking out the door.
The Holy Ghost said, "The water level is not high enough. You need more water."
I said, "Hmmm... but I'll only be gone for a minute. I'm sure it will be okay."
I'm certain the Holy Ghost looked at me with disappointment on His face as I confidently walked out the door with a divine meal in my hands.

My husband and I went to my neighbor's house, held her baby, told her what church we went to (using the full name); we talked about children and how we can know what to do for them through the power of the Holy Ghost, and headed back home.

I hadn't even gotten to my front door before I knew that I had sinned. The smell... oh my goodness, the smell. I sprinted inside - I think I had pot holders in my hands, I don't know where they went - and went directly to where I knew the source of my transgression was - the stove.

My pan is charred. My broccoli is black. And we were likely minutes away from a fire. My house smells like a chain-smoker lives here and I know that I only have myself to blame.

Meanwhile, my children, who have been home the entire time this was happening, are still sitting on the couch glued to their tablets. I imagine that their conversation went something like this:
"C, do you smell that?"
"Yes, K. I wonder what mom is making for dinner."
"Whatever that is, I don't want it."
"Well, I have 5 more minutes of watching someone else play Minecraft on YouTube, K. Besides, it's your turn."

And of course, they could have died!!! Where are their survival instincts? Why isn't there something internally that says, "Danger! Danger! Something must be wrong. I'll check it out."

So I called them to the kitchen. "Guys, didn't you notice anything? I could have been dead in here!"
K, the preteen with an attitude: "How could you just be dead in here? You can't die from a bad smell."
Me: "Actually, you can; but mom's sometimes die for no reason. You really should be more aware of what is going on here!"

Since they have not been born with survival instincts, we are all taking the prophet's challenge and fasting from technology for 10 days, and they have lost the privilege of being home alone. "Guys, I have a female doctor appointment, I hope you enjoy the waiting room." and "Guys, get in the car, we have a presidency meeting." "Kids, we are going to wander around Walmart and look for Tesla owners." You're welcome. K was recently complaining that I never spend time with her  -as if I hadn't given up my life and hobbies to spend all-day every-day staying here to homeschool her. Now she and I can be buddies -wherever I go, she goes! In my mind, this feels like revenge so I like it, but really I'm just suffocating myself by spending all of my time with 2 preteens.

Homeschool just got real here. Survival skills are next on the agenda.

Tesla cars don't belong at Walmart

I had a race, of sorts, with a Tesla on the main strip in Dayton, Ohio. I had a fighting chance because there is nowhere to go here. What good is a car like that in a town with many stoplights and traffic? If I was going to buy a Tesla, it would be when I lived out west. It just makes more sense.

As I was pondering this, imagine my surprise when the Mr. Tesla pulls into Walmart. WALMART! Look buddy, you can't drive a Tesla to Walmart. I think there are laws against that. You want to own a car that costs $100,000, you forfeit your right to shop at Walmart. Ridiculous.

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You may recall a blog post about a certain Christus that I received earlier this year. See: http://christinaannmiller.blogspot.com/2018/03/cursed.html

So my husband and I decided to consign said Christus, hoping that it would go to someone else to love and cherish it and so that we don't have to look at it and recall its"history." I left it at the consignment shop for a while and went back at the end of the contract. It was still there. I was told that I had to take it home but I could bring it back in and try again later. I just sighed and packed it back in it's box. I think this thing is just stuck with me.

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You should be warned I am crabby with life in general. This whole post will likely sound whiny. At least I have a reason for it. Here is why:

We got the cutest kitty for Kaitlynn's birthday in July. Granted, this little guy has cost me a small fortune, messes with my kid's toys, and climbs my curtains (I'm not sure I like those curtains anyway). He also likes to sit on my chest, like almost right in my face. It's his favorite. 

I texted this picture to my husband to tell him that his cat needed him. Once he got older he stopped doing this, thank goodness. 

So on Monday I took him to the vet (again) to get neutered. And 2 hours later I got a call. They basically told me... that they murdered him. The vet was crying before she even got the words out so I knew that something had gone wrong. Guys, I have been so sad about this. I know it is ridiculous. I dislike most animals, but this little guy was a ball of sunshine. He played fetch like a dog, cuddled with us on the couch, acted like an annoying younger sibling to my kids and their toys, which was the funniest thing to listen to. He also had a problem with his vocal cords so he couldn't really Meow, it was just a cute little sound that he would make so he didn't annoy me... He was just the best. 

The vet isn't sure what happened. They gave him the anesthetic and then his heart stopped. They gave him CPR and all the things you do for a little kitty but in the end, he didn't make it. They told me that they let their corporate office know, they took pictures, and were investigating it the best that they could, etc. but that won't bring my kitty back. I seriously cry every day about it. 

So today they called to tell me that they had his kitty remains and I could come get them. They wanted to pay for the cremation and any other expenses for him. So I go and pick his remains up and they give me this:

They spared no expense for this. They also had cards from the staff and a little gold half-broken heart (because the other half is in the urn). Although this was more than generous of them, it makes me wonder how guilty they are. They said this has never happened in their clinic and they were all distraught about it.

So as I wipe away my tears and try to be rational, I'm thinking, what in the world am I going to do with this urn? I thought we would get his ashes and we could spread them somewhere but this thing is a little coffin that is screwed shut. 

I don't even want to keep the statue of Jesus, I can't possibly justify keeping my cat's ashes in my house.

This whole thing is a mess. WAAAH. I just want my kitty back.

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Recently we went to Niagara Falls and this time my husband insisted that we go to the Canada side to go under the waterfalls. So we walked through the border and...I don't know...7 miles we got to get under the waterfalls. While we were there, I bought my kids Canadian ice cream cones. They are cool because they are from Canada. As we are walking along, I asked my son if I could have some of his. He said that I could but that I better not drop it.

My kid might be a prophet someday. I don't know what happened guys. That was the saddest ball of ice cream I have ever seen sitting on the ground. My son saw me take this over-aggressive lick and silently watched is his foolish mother let it fall on the ground. People sitting nearby were laughing. I'm just standing there looking around at what to do as my son walked to his dad to tell him about this treachery. It was just terrible. We are studying poems in homeschool. I feel like they are a lost art. So I will end my sad stories with a poem about this incident.

The Canadian Ice Cream Cone

There once was a pink little ball

And it did bring joy to all 

T'was eaten in the mall

Why did it have to fall?

Kicked right off of her throne

The sphere used to sit on her cone.

Somehow the boy must have known

She certainly didn't get thrown.

Strawberry was her smooth flavor

The boy just wanted to savor

His mother had offered a favor

In the end, she just couldn't save her.