If my children acted like this…

Presumably two legged children present the same feeding time issues as four legged children. Based on the social media posts of my breeder friends, I know their kids are at times….. difficult. Stay at home orders are not making this better.

At any given meal time but especially at “lunch”: One child is screaming that he is starving. He actually does this any time I am in the kitchen.

One child is interested in eating, but often needs reminded that we are on a schedule and she needs to put aside whatever she’s doing to come eat.

One child thinks eating is…meh, literally has to be carried to most meals. There she eats two bites then runs off.

As always, kid number four shows up appropriately, eats, and leaves.

Sookie: the good child

In other childish behavior, Ohio was hot in April, but is currently freezing. I’m tired of tucking in my tomatoes for yet another freeze warning. I’m also tired of people protesting wearing masks. As predicted in my head, Americans see a terrible situation and then choose to act like spoiled children entitled to do whatever whenever. Damn the “rules” even if there is a world wide pandemic on.

If my children acted like this ….

Catnip Party

The Wigglebothum getting crazy!

Saturday Night Catnip Party! Another indicator that I’ve been training for stay at home isolation for years. Perfectly entertained watching my cats get high. I only had some wine with dinner.

Not to be out-cuted by Olivia, Birdie flopped down by me to show off her standard catnip roll and stretch. Yep, another wild night in my social life.

My Kids are Bored

Yesterday I got to break up a 4-way cat fight that ranged all over the house– under the table, between the chairs, behind the tv-my god they are going to unplug something!- in to the front window behind the loveseat, down the hall— and dislodged a heating vent cover!

Miles absolutely started it by being an aggressive dick to Sookie. She was rolled over on her back between him and a footstool shrieking, which them brought Birdie and Olivia on scene. And suddenly they’re all in it.

I’m not sure whether to blame this behavior on me being in the house for what probably seems like 24/7 to the cats, our messed up schedule- the litter box is getting scooped in the morning versus the evening now which is messing with my head as well, but it seems like they must spend all night pooping!–or my own anxiety. I was on edge yesterday, making my stomach hurt trying to wrap my mind around how certain things at school could possibly work. I didn’t feel great, it was raining, I didn’t want to make some poor Door Dash person come out in the rain plus I didn’t know what I wanted to eat, and I basically went to bed feeling like I was shaking and proceeded to have anxiety dreams about everything from my night guard snapping in half to Olivia shimmying down in to the heating system and being trapped. I am certain that there is more than enough space for this to actually happen, and the fact that she and Sookie basically tossed the vent cover up out of its spot in the floor, throwing it almost a foot away, confirms my fears.

Olivia also got tossed about a foot away which was when I scooped her and her giant poofed tail up before she could jump back in to the tussle. Little Miss 8 Pounds of Nothin’ wanted to show 13-14 pound Sookie who was boss. Free of that opponent, Sookie took off down the hall which inspired Miles and Birdie to take up the chase. It was like one of those movie fight scenes where one person faces off against ten attackers, but the ten attackers all patiently wait their turns to be bested instead of just taking the one person down together.

Meanwhile, I was still firmly cradling Olivia while running after them yelling, “NONNONNONNONOOOOOONNNNOOOOO!” Birdie diverted to the spare bedroom, and Miles did an about face and froze in my bedroom which I shooed him out of immediately. I found Sookie in one of her usual “safe spots” wedged between the headboard of my bed and the wall, snorting at me.

Confession: I love their poofed tails. I don’t love the reason for the poof, but the over-sized tail cuteness kills me.

Like any good mom, I gave them drugs to chill everybody the fuck out. Catnip for all! By bedtime everybody seemed back to normal except me.

Check on your friends

I got a text from a friend today: “Hey, you doing okay? I miss the cat posts.”

Translation: “Are you dead or trapped somewhere? Your Insta game has been weak.”

It’s fine. MomBert employs the same technique when a day or two has gone by without me sending her a cat picture of her furry grandchildren.

Admittedly, my usual stream of cat pictures has dried up recently since Ohio is shutting everything down step by step and my brain melted from the stress of living the first chapters of a dystopian novel’s back story. ***Seriously though, I love this idea of those beginning chapters. I apologize now if I end up repeatedly using that phrase again. There is a reason dystopian literature exists. Go read Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel.

To uplift both our spirits and confirm that I was alive, I captured Olivia Wigglebothum’s standard greeting when I get home. Getting to the shelf seems very important to her.

This kid needs a kitten

It happens every weekend. Somehow all the other cats camp out for mid morning to early afternoon naps, but The Wigglebothum is still awake and she wants to play. She won’t pounce on any of the sleepers, but she’ll squeak and wiggle, and head bump my legs for attention. I fantasize about a kitten who would occupy her sometimes. I want to play, but I also want to get things done. There’s nothing like the parental guilt of sitting at the computer trying to pay bills while your kid desperately wipes her wet nose on your shins looking for love.

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Fortunately, I found a game to entertain both of us. Valentines Day was cold, but very sunny which meant two boldly colored sunspots in the living room.

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With The Wigglebothum ready to play, I tried to get some action shots.

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We have lift off!

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It is ridiculously hard to flip a cat toy in an alluring way while also trying to work a camera. Bubble break. Those are catnip bubbles by the way.

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While my pathetic string tosses weren’t always coordinated enough for flying leaps, there were some fierce, but lazy prone attacks. Murder mittens indeed.

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Love this one!

So much sass in this girl.

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