Faceplant Plus Cat.

Last week my friend Megan was in town for a wedding. She's a professional photographer with a darling 10 month old son, and we got to spend an afternoon hanging out and chatting, before going out to dinner with our husbands and some of her friends. Before we left, she took some pictures of Elizabeth and I - it was so fun to watch her go from being regular friend Megan to suddenly awesome professional photographer Megan. She asked if we could put Ellie on the ground for a picture, and I said she wasn't a very good sitter yet, but maybe we could try and see if she could balance herself for a second and I'd grab her if she fell.

As you can see, I did not get to her quite quick enough. I love her pathetic little arm, all straight and useless. Poor muffin face. In addition to letting her topple into the dirt last week, I also brained her with a water bottle this morning while prepping to leave for our morning walk. I'm useless.

Yesterday I had to take Lulu to the vet. She regularly pees on the carpet in our dining room and I am pretty disgusted with it. We brought her in about a year ago and they said she had crystals in her urine, so we got her a water fountain and put a bowl of water in our bathroom to encourage her to drink more. The doctor thinks she might still have some actual pee problems, but said that it sounds more like she's peeing out of stress and he prescribed cat Prozac. It seriously cracks me up, because out of all of the family pets, I feel like she's the smartest and most "with it." If a pet was going to go on Prozac, I figured it would be Chuckie, the world's worst cat, or Thor, the second biggest cat idiot ever known (second to Chuckie.) But no, it's Lula. Apparently all of the ladies in the house have postpartum! The good news is that Lulu may be stressed, but she's also a fattie fat, and it's super easy to get her to take her pill by either wrapping it in a "pill pocket" treat or putting laxatone on top of the pill. She never turns down a chance to eat. Much like Elizabeth. Oh, and me. We are all one and the same.

It was pretty hilarious/crappy though, trying to navigate into the vet while carrying my two fifteen pound girls in their subsequent carriers. Thankfully, Ellie was in a good mood so I only had to listen to the cat cry.