my kids think they're lucky to be working all summer

Don't get me wrong. We play in the pool quite a bit in our "off hours," but my kids don't have the typical summer vacation. They go to work with me each and every day, and they help. Like truly help. We don't travel to far-off lands or exotic places, and though I don't think they'd turn down the opportunity to do so, my kids actually think they're lucky to be working all summer. 

We don't travel during the summer because our clients do. As a professional pet sitter and work-from-home-mom, when the kids are out of school, they accompany me–aka free child labor–on my visits. They generally know my schedule, and they know all of the creatures in the lineup, so if we're seeing some of their favorites, they'll often be dressed before 5 a.m., ready to make the rounds. 

This week is particularly fun because we're looking after one of our favorite animal families. They have a dog, a cat, two horses, and three chickens, and my kids wouldn't let me leave them behind for anything.

Admiring the horses, chatting with the chickens and giving the cat some love.

Admiring the horses, chatting with the chickens and giving the cat some love.

Sometimes I feel like my kids are deprived because they don't get to do much of what their friends are doing over the summer, but then I review the pictures and see their enthusiasm and realize that putting them to work for the summer doing something they love while spending time together is just as valuable.

It's like our own private petting zoo, all summer long. 

we chose a pet for my unborn grandchildren

Boy, my kids say the darndest things.

As many of you know, we adopted a Sulcata Tortoise (aka African Spurred Tortoise) about a year-and-a-half ago. Fluffy came into our lives when he was just a baby and only about two inches long.

Teenie-weenie baby Fluffy.

Teenie-weenie baby Fluffy.

He's now about six inches long and weighs substantially more than when he arrived. Wonder why.

This guy loves to eat.

This guy loves to eat.

Fluffy will eventually weigh in between 100 and 200 pounds, so I'm teaching him to come when called, now, before it's too late. He'll also live to be between fifty and 150 years old, possibly longer. Before we adopted him, we talked with our kids about the fact that this wouldn't be a commitment just for our lifetimes, but that Fluffy might outlive even them. They thought that was pretty cool. Me, too.

We were chatting the other day about how much Fluffy has grown and the changes we've seen in him since he came to us. I said to the littles, "remember, your children will likely have to take him on. He's going to live a really, really long time." 

My seven-year-old son, Porter, said, "Um, Mommy? It's illegal to marry your sister, so Campbell and I won't be having any children together. And I don't think I want to marry her anyway. She's annoying." 

It seems we need to have a different kind of chat.