Baby poop smells like scrambled eggs

So I bet you're all wondering how our "other" kids are dealing with the new addition into our household. Well ...

Simba's busy trying to convince us that he also is a baby by sleeping in Nathan's car seat or his baby papasan almost every night. Other than that, he's dealing fairly well. Except for the other day when I accidentally locked him in Nathan's room all day long and he pooped and peed all over the place. Not just any place though, all over my chair. My beautiful, comfy-as-ever, sleeping/nursing chair that we splurged on now smells heavily of cat pee. So I tried a home-made cleaning solution containing white vinegar. All it did was make the chair smell like vinegar. So now we have a piss and vinegar chair ... nice.

There's nothing cuter than baby butt!

Benny, on the other hand, still isn't dealing with things. He copes by eating 24/7 and refusing to go outside and play. So naturally he looks like a huge blimp of a cat. He just won't accept the fact that he's no longer the baby of the house.

As a kitten, Benny was also not too pleased when my niece was born. I don't have any recent pictures of him because he's too busy pouting or eating.

Yesterday was Nathan's two-month doctor appointment. He's now 22 inches long and 12 1/2 pounds! My little piggy is growing so fast. Poor guy had to endure three shots to the leg. He was miserable yesterday when we got home. He had a small fever from the immunizations and his legs were really sore from the needles. He just cried all day, causing me to cry, wishing there was something I could do for him. There's nothing worse than watching your baby in pain. So we gave him a bath (which he quite enjoys now) and I held him for a while in the stinky chair.

Sponge Ben, Cat Pants!

Hiya, mi naym is Benny. I way 15 pownds.
I pley in tha hows and in tha outsiyd grass and katch lots of myce and birds.

I hiyd in spases, then I git stuk in spaces. My bruther Simba has to open doors fur me.

I liyk to eet food a lot. I always eet a lot of food. I hav 9 snaks every day. Sumtimes I don't let my bruther eet his food cuz I ayt it alredy.

I lyk to sleep with my mommy and daddy. I lyk to suffokate my mommy in her sleep by laying on her hed.

I lyk to snuggl a lot and purr a lot. I luv my mommy and daddy.

Them kids

So, I was tagged by Gizmo & Kritter to list some weird traits about my kids/cats. I could go on forever about some of the crap they pull (literally, crap) but I'll just have them list their most unique qualities.

SIMBA

Let me give you a little background on my existence. I do not know my biological mother or father because they abandoned me in the awful town of Abilene on a college campus. For the first six weeks of my life I survived off crickets and other bugs. During one hot and dry day, I was chasing after a rather juicy looking cricket and accidentally walked in front of two students trying to complete a filming project on campus. They scared me. They chased me. They caught me. Thus began my days in captivity.

1. I do not meow. I believe meowing is for sissies. When I enter a room, I announce my presence with a bark and a snort. If you do not acknowledge my presence, then I will bark several more times and walk away. All who come near me must pay attention to me or they do not deserve the pleasure of my company. Sometimes I will even walk on my hind legs and scratch at your legs if I really feel extra attention is necessary.

2. Sometimes I pretend that I'm pirate. I will close my right eye and walk around like an old man. My adoptive parents (or the wardens, as I like to call them) took me to the evil witch-doctor because they thought something was wrong with my eye. Don't they understand that I just want to be a pirate?

3. Chicken, I love chicken. Chicken, chicken, chicken!!!! You can have all the fish in the world if you'll just let me have a small piece of chicken. But I will eat any people food I can get my paws on. If the wardens don't cover food on the counter, tables or stove, I will help myself.

4. I believe that families should eat together. I have my own chair at the dining room table. The woman warden doesn't appreciate that I sit at the table. But if the man warden is home alone, I can get away with anything.

5. I am a very skilled locksmith. I can open any door in the house, no matter what. It's a talent that I have to hide from my cell mate, Benny, who doesn't have any skills. I think he may be legally retarded.

6. I don't understand why the wardens insist on trying to discipline me. I spent the majority of my kitten-hood soaking wet, as they would try to deter me from certain actions by spraying me in the face with a water bottle. What kind of discipline is that? I quite enjoy being sprayed in the face. It took them a while to realize that the spray-bottle method does not work with me, nor does any other discipline method. I do what I want, when I want.

Our children

I just had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad morning.

Our kids are rebelling. They know something is about to happen, something that will deprive them of being the constant center of attention. And they don't like it, not one single bit. So in their tiny little minds they have made the decision to start climbing on forbidden furniture, puking in places (like right on my pregnancy journal in the middle of the kitchen table) that make me burst into tears, and having all-night parties outside with the other neighborhood cats.

This morning was the last straw. I don't know what we're going to do. I'm within a hair's width of losing all my sanity. In the middle of my normal morning routing of trying to make myself look halfway decent for work, I was rudely interrupted by an eerily familiar sound.

ONE OF THE CATS WAS PEEING ON THE CARPET!

I dashed out of the bathroom to see Simba (the orange one) squatting in a dark corner of the basement, peeing like it was the right thing to do.

I looked at him, he looked at me.

I screamed "NOOOOOOOOO! Bad boy! BAD BOY!" He continued peeing and just looked at me like nothing was wrong at all.

I had a choice: I could either let him finish peeing on the carpet, or grab him and put him in the litter box causing more cat pee to be strewn across the carpet. I opted for the first choice because he was pretty much finished anyway. Before I could grab him and punish him, he dashed around my ankles in a fit of frisky and ran up the stairs and hid in one of his many clever hiding places ... I think he knows that I'm not as fast as I used to be. So I started the clean-up process and got some paper towels to absorb the cat pee from the carpet. I spent a good 10 minutes on my hands and knees trying to find the cat pee. Nothing. No dirt, no grime, and definitely no cat pee appeared on the paper towel. I just couldn't believe it, I couldn't find the pee! I saw where he did it, I heard the pee hit the carpet, I know it's there somewhere, but I just couldn't find it.

I finally gave up trying to find the wet spot because I needed to get ready for work. With my blood pressure a bit higher and the vein in my forehead bulging, I went back into the bathroom to finish my secret beauty process (I know you would all just LOVE to know what I do in the morning to look so great, but I'm sorry, every woman must have her secrets).

And again, I was interrupted by a familiar noise.

*Scratch, scratch*
and again
*Scratch, scratch ... silence ... sssssssss*

NOT AGAIN! So one more time I ran out of the bathroom to see Benny (the grey cat) squatting in the corner, right were Simba had been 10 minutes ago. I couldn't believe it. I just stood there. They really do hate me. My cats are out to get me one pee spot at a time.

So again I try to clean up the pee, and again I can't find the mysterious spot. Am I just imagining all of this? Is this all really just a bad dream? No it's not, because I was late for work, didn't have time to eat breakfast, and now my day is totally thrown off because of the magical disappearing cat piss.

What am I going to do with them?