Glider Island: "I gotta break free!" <i>sings the late great Freddy Mercury</i>

Mommy no! Not my pom! Please, noooooo! ( Viggo and Victor break freeeeeeee last night!)

My first trimester has been a rough way to go, and wow... being pregnant at 42 is a real experience, let me tell you. Ok, so for once, I am finally getting a great night's sleep, and I only had to get up twice. The first time, all was well, and I went right back into my snuggly warm blankie, but that second time, uh oh! When I woke up, John had the living room light on - at 4:00 a.m.?? I thought, What in the world is going on? He said he was sound asleep, and then he felt it... little furry things running all over his face! He said "the rats are out!" with an air of complete exhaustion, and he was clumsily shuffling around trying to catch one... When I say rats, I mean the sugar gliders (and he knows better than to call them that, but he was mad).

So, here I am, fat belly and all, and I'm trying to help as best I can, but bending over is taxing when you are a geriatric mother-to-be with a big fat belly at 4:00 in the morning. What we discovered MUCH LATER was that Victor and Viggo had chewed a hole through their Apogee Reptarium and they were having a grand ol' time! You can just imagine what fun this was. 5:30 a.m. begins my "get ready for work routine, anyway"! Finally, after much shuffling about, we caught Victor and put him back in his rep, then, we went after Viggo... by the time we caught Viggo, Victor was out again, and I was like "what the heck, didn't I close that zipper all the way last night?" -- but I was sure that I had! THEN we looked and found a hole... BOYS!!! So, the glider chase started all over again!! John went downstairs, and he brought up one of those nice little black hospital/travel cages we bought from Helen, and there we were... all set to go back to bed.

NOT!

Then, to add insult to injury, the porch light came on, and as we checked to see what caused this (a motion sensor light), we saw four eyes staring at us... great, now the boys were loose: Dewey, the Yellow Lab, and a perfect housedog (if we had an English manor house) and Fang, the Siberian Husky mix, stared right at us, like "Let us in, mom. We're LONELY and we want to talk..." (they HAD been in the kennel which is attached to the barn).

Uh oh, bad news. Now, that means that Baby my Boxer is running at large, and when that girl has her freedom she runs like the wind and it takes DAYS to find her... to my total surprise (and thanks be to God!), Miss Baby was all curled up on the lawn chair sleeping her little self away. I knew Dewey and Fang would sleep on the porch, but once Baby decided to move, she'd run off. So, we brought her in here, and she jumped into bed with John, and THAT made Tommy Lee growl. For those of you who don't know who Tommy Lee is, he's my Min-Pin, all eight pounds of him, and he's a grumpy old man, now, of eight years old. Come to think of it, Baby is eight or nine years old, herself. John just grumbled and buried his head under his pillow and hid in his blankie.

I feel like I am living "Three Dog Night and a Bushel of Gliders -- to Boot!" down here!

sigh

Let me say this, it was a welcome relief when I found out that Andrea's school was closed (at approximately 6:30 a.m.); then, my school followed suit. Now, all I have to do is clear off the van and get the boys ready for their neutering. Wait, the roads are covered with snow... I just talked to my vet, and we are re-scheduling for tomorrow morning instead.

So, tomorrow, Thing 2 (the last Kentucky rescue) gets his... and my very own little darling, Victor, get his, too. I can understand Viggo trying to save his brother's manhood, but really... what a day!