|I wish I could add sound effects.|
The answer? Doing OK. I admit to a sleep-deprived meltdown and the house could be cleaner, but whatever, I would rather make faces at Desmond than wash dishes. I eat lots of sandwiches off paper towels. Sometimes these sandwiches don't include bread. Sometimes a sandwich is three tablespoons of peanut butter. Don't judge.
The Cats, however, alternate between behaviors; often they want to participate in family snuggle time. They lick my toes. Sometimes they meow and make sweet kitty face as one of us feeds them. They have smelly breath. Very often I chase them down to administer various medications to keep the mean geriatric felines alive. Mostly though, they act like jerks and put their wee-banana-slice-kitty-butt all over everything. We have a mesh tent over the crib to kitty proof...it doesn't work. The evil destructive monkeys touch everything with wet noses, gritty paws, butts and leave a trail of hair letting everyone know exactly how much they enjoyed sleeping in the basket full of diapers. On everything. Everything.