There is a haze of smoke covering our city and much of our province this morning. Even though we are far removed from the immediate vicinity of a raging forest fire, our air quality rating is 10+ (very high risk). All I can think is how fortunate we are to be this far removed. A "little" smoke in the air is a pretty minor inconvenience.
As I scrolled through some of the advisories this morning, the one that caught my eye was "If you can't breathe, nothing else matters."
For those of us in good health, simply staying indoors and keeping outdoor activity to a minimum will probably be enough for us to ride this out.
For those who live closer to the fires, not only do they have a much higher concentration of smoke to endure, but there must be a great number of those who have their bags packed and need to be ready to evacuate.
I kept my small children indoors yesterday (and will do the same today) which was a bit of a novelty because we have been able to spend hours upon hours breathing in the fresh air and taking advantage of our sunny days.
It is yet another little reminder of just how fortunate we are when we wake up to air that is safe to breathe and a respiratory system that works as it we expect. Each and every day.
Because, "If you can't breathe, nothing else matters."
Just feeling grateful this morning. That is all.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Monday, June 29, 2015
Sundowning
I have had a long time affection for the time of the day when I can close the blinds, climb into my pajamas and turn off my brain.
Although I have the ability to stay dressed and complete menial tasks after supper, lately I have had a feeling where I think I shouldn't make important decisions at the day's end because I feel slightly impaired. And believe me, this has absolutely nothing to do with alcohol.
Due to an upcoming trip, followed by a reunion and holiday time a few weeks after that, I have had the need to tend to several details and make commitments that involve paying for things online.
One night it hit me. "I cannot hit the 'I Agree' button until the morning. I feel mentally impaired this late at night." This was immediately followed by the realization that this was not the first time I have felt this way lately.
The ability to form cohesive sentences, if I haven't been talking with adults for an extended period of time, is more noticable after 6:00.
The desire to pick up the phone and call someone after supper is nil. Okay, nothing has changed there. Knock that off the list of symptoms.
Any type of bookwork becomes onerous after I start shutting down. But it can be done (just watch what I can do when the power goes off and the battery on my computer keeps going long after the Internet connection has been severed).
Housecleaning at the end of a day? Forget it.
Yard work? I do it before I eat supper and start shutting down.
Phone calls? Inbound, I can do. Outbound? Hurts.
Mental math? Very slow and labor intensive.
Coping skills? Excellent, as long as the blinds are drawn, I am in my pj's and no one is asking me to do anything.
What is causing this?
Is it dealing with 1-1/2 to 3-1/2 year old children ten hours a day, five days a week? Or, and this is the million dollar question, is it because I am addicted to all of my "connections".
The Internet connection distracts me constantly.
The ability to look up the answer to any question, any time of day is addictive. It can be as simple as wondering how old a contestant is, on Dancing With the Stars. Back in the old days, one could only guess or rely on whatever information that star was willing to reveal.
Facebook. I don't spend an excess amount of energy updating my own status but I do spend an extraordinary amount of time "lurking". Granted, I find a lot of inspiration and encouragement within my friend's status updates and positive thinking messages. But it is a time waster. I know this. Yet, during my days of speaking at a two year old level, I crave adult input.
Netflix. Oh dear. I was afraid this could happen to me and I am not too addicted (yet), but the ability to watch ten seasons of a favorite television show back-to-back, all weekend? It is a childhood dream come true. Thankfully I can't stay awake that long.
Texting and the cell phone addiction? I never thought this would be me. But it is. I use my cell phone as my watch, my camera, my Internet connection when I am away from the computer, my alarm and timer and the ability to record or jot down notes throughout the day when a pen and piece of paper are out of reach. Not to mention the need I feel to answer a text message immediately upon receipt.
I am addicted to all of these connections. I know I must do something. I need to sever the connection. If not all day then, at a minimum, part of the day. After supper would be a good place to start.
At the moment, if I don't get something done in the morning, it (often) doesn't get done. These little things start to pile up.
By the weekend, I have several little piles of paperwork, atop the computer desk and in the kitchen, to tend to and make disappear. This past Saturday morning, I had to send two emails, pay a bill and commit to (hit that "I Agree" button) and pay for something else. It took me two hours to do "all of the above".
Two hours? On a morning brain?!
It is taking too long to process information. Writing is becoming work. I used to send emails to friends just to keep in touch. Now? I reply. And bookwork?! Not fun. I am so incredibly grateful I don't "do numbers" all day, every day.
All in all, I know this balance is exactly right.
I need human interaction and contact with adults on a regular basis. My daycare business provides that.
I need a creative outlet. Writing provides that.
I need to challenge myself and grow. Bookkeeping does that for me.
I need downtime and my "sundowning period" after supper gives that to me.
I need friendship and to socialize and, when I don't frighten my friends away by my "need for alone time", I do have friends who convince me to come out and play.
Life is a delicate balance of all of the above and so much more. I think this "sundowning period" is providing me what I need to keep the rest of life in balance.
My only concern? Is the days are slowly but surely getting shorter. I am not looking forward to the days when darkness exceeds the light. I need to make the most of the daylight hours while the light is shining.
It isn't all darkness and gloom yet. I think I need to find a piece of sunlight to carry me past supper time and through the winter.
The twilight hours are beautiful and necessary. But I wouldn't want to live there.
Although I have the ability to stay dressed and complete menial tasks after supper, lately I have had a feeling where I think I shouldn't make important decisions at the day's end because I feel slightly impaired. And believe me, this has absolutely nothing to do with alcohol.
Due to an upcoming trip, followed by a reunion and holiday time a few weeks after that, I have had the need to tend to several details and make commitments that involve paying for things online.
One night it hit me. "I cannot hit the 'I Agree' button until the morning. I feel mentally impaired this late at night." This was immediately followed by the realization that this was not the first time I have felt this way lately.
The ability to form cohesive sentences, if I haven't been talking with adults for an extended period of time, is more noticable after 6:00.
The desire to pick up the phone and call someone after supper is nil. Okay, nothing has changed there. Knock that off the list of symptoms.
Any type of bookwork becomes onerous after I start shutting down. But it can be done (just watch what I can do when the power goes off and the battery on my computer keeps going long after the Internet connection has been severed).
Housecleaning at the end of a day? Forget it.
Yard work? I do it before I eat supper and start shutting down.
Phone calls? Inbound, I can do. Outbound? Hurts.
Mental math? Very slow and labor intensive.
Coping skills? Excellent, as long as the blinds are drawn, I am in my pj's and no one is asking me to do anything.
What is causing this?
Is it dealing with 1-1/2 to 3-1/2 year old children ten hours a day, five days a week? Or, and this is the million dollar question, is it because I am addicted to all of my "connections".
The Internet connection distracts me constantly.
The ability to look up the answer to any question, any time of day is addictive. It can be as simple as wondering how old a contestant is, on Dancing With the Stars. Back in the old days, one could only guess or rely on whatever information that star was willing to reveal.
Facebook. I don't spend an excess amount of energy updating my own status but I do spend an extraordinary amount of time "lurking". Granted, I find a lot of inspiration and encouragement within my friend's status updates and positive thinking messages. But it is a time waster. I know this. Yet, during my days of speaking at a two year old level, I crave adult input.
Netflix. Oh dear. I was afraid this could happen to me and I am not too addicted (yet), but the ability to watch ten seasons of a favorite television show back-to-back, all weekend? It is a childhood dream come true. Thankfully I can't stay awake that long.
Texting and the cell phone addiction? I never thought this would be me. But it is. I use my cell phone as my watch, my camera, my Internet connection when I am away from the computer, my alarm and timer and the ability to record or jot down notes throughout the day when a pen and piece of paper are out of reach. Not to mention the need I feel to answer a text message immediately upon receipt.
I am addicted to all of these connections. I know I must do something. I need to sever the connection. If not all day then, at a minimum, part of the day. After supper would be a good place to start.
At the moment, if I don't get something done in the morning, it (often) doesn't get done. These little things start to pile up.
By the weekend, I have several little piles of paperwork, atop the computer desk and in the kitchen, to tend to and make disappear. This past Saturday morning, I had to send two emails, pay a bill and commit to (hit that "I Agree" button) and pay for something else. It took me two hours to do "all of the above".
Two hours? On a morning brain?!
It is taking too long to process information. Writing is becoming work. I used to send emails to friends just to keep in touch. Now? I reply. And bookwork?! Not fun. I am so incredibly grateful I don't "do numbers" all day, every day.
All in all, I know this balance is exactly right.
I need human interaction and contact with adults on a regular basis. My daycare business provides that.
I need a creative outlet. Writing provides that.
I need to challenge myself and grow. Bookkeeping does that for me.
I need downtime and my "sundowning period" after supper gives that to me.
I need friendship and to socialize and, when I don't frighten my friends away by my "need for alone time", I do have friends who convince me to come out and play.
Life is a delicate balance of all of the above and so much more. I think this "sundowning period" is providing me what I need to keep the rest of life in balance.
My only concern? Is the days are slowly but surely getting shorter. I am not looking forward to the days when darkness exceeds the light. I need to make the most of the daylight hours while the light is shining.
It isn't all darkness and gloom yet. I think I need to find a piece of sunlight to carry me past supper time and through the winter.
The twilight hours are beautiful and necessary. But I wouldn't want to live there.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Right in Our Own Back Yard
This is how I ended my last post:
"Set yourself free today. Don't follow the rules (or mow your lawn or pick your weeds). Let the day flow in and through you just the way it wants to. Don't fight the flow. And see how it goes.
There is beauty in letting the day wash through you. I think I need to take a piece of my own advice. If I'm still standing at the end of the day, I'll try and update you."
Then? I proceeded to follow my own advice and had a most excellent day.
We rolled with the punches. All day. And the day went amazingly well.
We followed where the day took us and even though it didn't take us any further than our own back yard, we had a completely different view and the day took on a glow.
Some clouds rolled in and shaded our deck in the morning so we played in the shade, watched a hydrovac truck pull out our fence post and then the kids got the best gift of all. The guy who pulled out our post invited them to come have a look at the hole he made, a tour of his truck and [insert drum roll here] they got to go "rock picking" in the back alley while we were there.
"Set yourself free today. Don't follow the rules (or mow your lawn or pick your weeds). Let the day flow in and through you just the way it wants to. Don't fight the flow. And see how it goes.
There is beauty in letting the day wash through you. I think I need to take a piece of my own advice. If I'm still standing at the end of the day, I'll try and update you."
Then? I proceeded to follow my own advice and had a most excellent day.
We rolled with the punches. All day. And the day went amazingly well.
We followed where the day took us and even though it didn't take us any further than our own back yard, we had a completely different view and the day took on a glow.
Some clouds rolled in and shaded our deck in the morning so we played in the shade, watched a hydrovac truck pull out our fence post and then the kids got the best gift of all. The guy who pulled out our post invited them to come have a look at the hole he made, a tour of his truck and [insert drum roll here] they got to go "rock picking" in the back alley while we were there.
They brought their rocks back onto the deck with them and they provided no end of entertainment. Peace, contentment and joy were all wrapped up into our morning and I didn't even have to apply sunscreen!
After nap time, my son rigged up a sprinkler hose atop the deck railing and we endured the heatwave in an imaginative and interactive way.
I didn't fight the flow and the day provided exactly what we needed.
Add a big, noisy truck, a few clouds when needed, some rocks and some water and it equalled contentment in my little world.
As an added bonus, our fence is finally fixed, so next week we have full run of the back yard again.
Everything we needed was right in our own back yard. Isn't that often the case?
Friday, June 26, 2015
Angst
Angst - a feeling of anxiety, apprehension, or insecurity
Yes, "angst" is a good word for the way I woke up this morning.
I haven't been rolling with this week very well. I think I need a holiday. Kid-chatter is grating on my last nerve.
Scene from my two days ago:
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Uh-huh.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Yes I do.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Yes, I like your dress.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Yes. I like your pretty dress.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: YES, AND I HEARD YOU THE FIRST FOUR TIMES YOU TOLD ME! [fail, I know]
Scene from yesterday:
Me: Who has an idea what to have for snack today?
Child 1: I do.
Child 2: No, I do!
Child 3: NO! I DO!!
Me: Okay, what is your idea?
Child 1, 2 and 3: Silence
Yesterday morning started out with a large, suspicious wet spot on the couch. My Little Guy, who had just arrived and didn't want to eat breakfast with us and sat on the couch, had an overfilled diaper that leaked onto the couch.
The cleaning-of-the-couch process drew children to me, like bees to honey. And I wasn't feeling too terribly sweet. So I turned on the "Bubble Guppies" and begged them to watch it and sit on the love seat, where they always sit, not on the couch. You would have thought I was asking for the moon.
So ... we finally made it out the door and we had walked fifteen minutes towards a spray park to find a cool way to beat the heat when this conversation took place:
Little Boy #2: [indeterminable mumbling preceded the words] ... poopin'.
Me: [immediately remembering I had failed to take him to the bathroom just before we left, although he had gone immediately after breakfast and we would have been out the door shortly thereafter, if it wasn't for the Wet Couch Incident] You have to go poop?
Little Boy #2: Yup
I couldn't be frustrated. It was my fault. We turned on a dime, headed home, took him to the bathroom. And by then, he didn't have to go.
So we headed back towards the park and all went well. We got home, had a quick lunch, watched a little bit of a movie and everyone headed towards those minutes of the day I love the best. Quiet time.
I usually get twenty minutes to myself during that time. Then I get the older ones up so they can watch a movie and I have an added half hour of them watching a movie while I start to update our daycare blog. Those quiet minutes get me through the day. When I don't get them? I am depleted.
Yesterday? I didn't get them.
Little Boy #1 woke up an hour ahead of schedule. He is a dynamo. He bounces off the couches. Literally. He needs to climb, be active, diversity and he really thrives in a no-rules-zone. I need this little boy to sleep. He didn't.
It was hot, hot, hot outside yesterday. So I brought the water table out onto the shaded deck. This new activity brought no end of fun and bliss and contentment to our world last year. I was ready for some blissful, cool water fun. It would save the day.
Little Boy #1 was not here last year. He LOVED the water. But no one else could enjoy the water play because he saturated everything and everybody in sight. It was a "two part" table, so I moved him over to the other half so he could play any which way he wanted to play and not soak everyone else. He didn't like that idea. He wanted to be where everyone else was. Then he climbed onto/into the water table. Not once. Not twice. Three times. The water table is not meant to be sat in.
Little Boy #2 saw LB #1 climbing in the table so he thought it would be just fine to sit on it as well. Not once. Not twice. But three times.
I dumped the water and hid the table in the garage.
Little Boy #2 was angry with me for taking away the only fun thing there was to do. I begged my son to come outside with me. I desperately needed to communicate with someone over the age of three. He didn't want to be there and when he saw my exasperation levels he simply said, "I don't know why you didn't just take them downstairs".
"Because I am being a good, creative and fun babysitter, That is why! I'm doing the right things but the wrong things are happening!! THAT'S why!"
Well, I didn't really say that. But I did think it.
Why do the wrong things happen when you do what you do for all the right reasons? Could it be because nothing I offered the kids came from a place of joy? It was all guilt and trying to do the right thing.
Thus, I woke this morning [is it just me, or is this not the longest week in the history of man???], feeling very apprehensive about the day ahead of me. I am anxious because I really don't know what to do with my little energizer bunny who is sick to death of the confines of our house and yard. And I am feeling insecure because I should be better than this.
I know better but I'm not doing better.
Angst. Yes, that is me today. It can only get better. Right?
Good things do not come from a place of guilt and obligation. Good things come out of the smallest intentions, coming from a place of giving and joy.
I think we are going to go find bugs and stones today. Life is simpler that way.
One other quote from yesterday:
As we were walking to the waterpark (the first time), my three-year-old little girl saw a yard overgrown with a wild flower garden, unkempt and unmowed grass, filled with dandelions and clover in full bloom and she said in wonder, "Colleen! Look at the beautiful garden!!"
And do you know what? It was beautiful. It was unabandoned, unrestricted wild beauty. Mother Nature set free to do as she pleased. And it looked good.
Set yourself free today. Don't follow the rules (or mow your lawn or pick your weeds). Let the day flow in and through you just the way it wants to. Don't fight the flow. And see how it goes.
There is beauty in letting the day wash through you. I think I need to take a piece of my own advice. If I'm still standing at the end of the day, I'll try and update you.
Yes, "angst" is a good word for the way I woke up this morning.
I haven't been rolling with this week very well. I think I need a holiday. Kid-chatter is grating on my last nerve.
Scene from my two days ago:
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Uh-huh.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Yes I do.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Yes, I like your dress.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: Yes. I like your pretty dress.
Child: Colleen, do you like my dress?
Me: YES, AND I HEARD YOU THE FIRST FOUR TIMES YOU TOLD ME! [fail, I know]
Scene from yesterday:
Me: Who has an idea what to have for snack today?
Child 1: I do.
Child 2: No, I do!
Child 3: NO! I DO!!
Me: Okay, what is your idea?
Child 1, 2 and 3: Silence
Yesterday morning started out with a large, suspicious wet spot on the couch. My Little Guy, who had just arrived and didn't want to eat breakfast with us and sat on the couch, had an overfilled diaper that leaked onto the couch.
The cleaning-of-the-couch process drew children to me, like bees to honey. And I wasn't feeling too terribly sweet. So I turned on the "Bubble Guppies" and begged them to watch it and sit on the love seat, where they always sit, not on the couch. You would have thought I was asking for the moon.
So ... we finally made it out the door and we had walked fifteen minutes towards a spray park to find a cool way to beat the heat when this conversation took place:
Little Boy #2: [indeterminable mumbling preceded the words] ... poopin'.
Me: [immediately remembering I had failed to take him to the bathroom just before we left, although he had gone immediately after breakfast and we would have been out the door shortly thereafter, if it wasn't for the Wet Couch Incident] You have to go poop?
Little Boy #2: Yup
I couldn't be frustrated. It was my fault. We turned on a dime, headed home, took him to the bathroom. And by then, he didn't have to go.
So we headed back towards the park and all went well. We got home, had a quick lunch, watched a little bit of a movie and everyone headed towards those minutes of the day I love the best. Quiet time.
I usually get twenty minutes to myself during that time. Then I get the older ones up so they can watch a movie and I have an added half hour of them watching a movie while I start to update our daycare blog. Those quiet minutes get me through the day. When I don't get them? I am depleted.
Yesterday? I didn't get them.
Little Boy #1 woke up an hour ahead of schedule. He is a dynamo. He bounces off the couches. Literally. He needs to climb, be active, diversity and he really thrives in a no-rules-zone. I need this little boy to sleep. He didn't.
It was hot, hot, hot outside yesterday. So I brought the water table out onto the shaded deck. This new activity brought no end of fun and bliss and contentment to our world last year. I was ready for some blissful, cool water fun. It would save the day.
Little Boy #1 was not here last year. He LOVED the water. But no one else could enjoy the water play because he saturated everything and everybody in sight. It was a "two part" table, so I moved him over to the other half so he could play any which way he wanted to play and not soak everyone else. He didn't like that idea. He wanted to be where everyone else was. Then he climbed onto/into the water table. Not once. Not twice. Three times. The water table is not meant to be sat in.
Little Boy #2 saw LB #1 climbing in the table so he thought it would be just fine to sit on it as well. Not once. Not twice. But three times.
I dumped the water and hid the table in the garage.
Little Boy #2 was angry with me for taking away the only fun thing there was to do. I begged my son to come outside with me. I desperately needed to communicate with someone over the age of three. He didn't want to be there and when he saw my exasperation levels he simply said, "I don't know why you didn't just take them downstairs".
"Because I am being a good, creative and fun babysitter, That is why! I'm doing the right things but the wrong things are happening!! THAT'S why!"
Well, I didn't really say that. But I did think it.
Why do the wrong things happen when you do what you do for all the right reasons? Could it be because nothing I offered the kids came from a place of joy? It was all guilt and trying to do the right thing.
Thus, I woke this morning [is it just me, or is this not the longest week in the history of man???], feeling very apprehensive about the day ahead of me. I am anxious because I really don't know what to do with my little energizer bunny who is sick to death of the confines of our house and yard. And I am feeling insecure because I should be better than this.
I know better but I'm not doing better.
Angst. Yes, that is me today. It can only get better. Right?
Good things do not come from a place of guilt and obligation. Good things come out of the smallest intentions, coming from a place of giving and joy.
I think we are going to go find bugs and stones today. Life is simpler that way.
One other quote from yesterday:
As we were walking to the waterpark (the first time), my three-year-old little girl saw a yard overgrown with a wild flower garden, unkempt and unmowed grass, filled with dandelions and clover in full bloom and she said in wonder, "Colleen! Look at the beautiful garden!!"
And do you know what? It was beautiful. It was unabandoned, unrestricted wild beauty. Mother Nature set free to do as she pleased. And it looked good.
Set yourself free today. Don't follow the rules (or mow your lawn or pick your weeds). Let the day flow in and through you just the way it wants to. Don't fight the flow. And see how it goes.
There is beauty in letting the day wash through you. I think I need to take a piece of my own advice. If I'm still standing at the end of the day, I'll try and update you.
 |
| "Colleen! What a beautiful garden!!" |
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Finding His Place
Our New Kitty has lived with us little over 3-1/2 days and he acts and feels like he has been waiting his whole life to find us.
My youngest tells me this little black furball found her by putting his paw up to the clear, plastic window in his accommodations at the S.P.C.A. and he pawed at the window steadily. First, with one paw; then he alternated with the other.
This gesture caught my youngest's eye and she had to bring him out and hold him. I walked up just as this was happening and I was witness to the instant and natural loving personality of this little guy.
I scratched his ears and leaned in to listen to his purr. "He has to pass the purr test," I told my youngest. I love when a cat purrs like a motor. It makes my knees go weak when I can hear that purr across a room (Senior Cat had that awesome purring talent).
His purr wasn't loud, but it was steady and came easily.
I reached out to take a turn holding him and it was as if this little kitty reached his arms out to me at the same time and climbed into my arms like a toddler alternating from one parent's arms into the other. It took my breath away.
I held him for a while then moved him a little to shift my hold on him. Then he hugged me. It was unmistakeable. He clasped his little arm around my neck and held on in a way I've never been held by a cat.
He has hugged us time and time again. You can see the way he clasps onto the neck of the one who is adoring him.
I don't know if he treated everyone the same as he treated us. Most likely. I think he would have went home with anyone who cared to adopt him. But he found us.
And so he came into our home with the attitude, "I'm home, at last!!"
He wandered through the house and explored the nooks and crannies (and apparently the ceiling in the laundry room as well) with great curiosity.
He met our Only Cat and each of them gave the other the nose-to-nose greeting without a hiss or a howl or anything other than just plain old curiosity (the low grade meowl from our pre-existing cat in residence came later, as they worked out the status among felines between themselves).
We introduced him to the litter box to ensure he knew its location, then the food and water dishes. He ate. And ate and ate. Then ate some more. It was as if he was used to food rationing and he had to eat while the eating was good. Or he simply liked our Gold Nugget (gastrointestinal special diet) cat food.
Most of all, I am so very happy and grateful that this mutual adoration and contentment seems to be a two way street. He looks pretty happy here within our heart and home.
My youngest tells me this little black furball found her by putting his paw up to the clear, plastic window in his accommodations at the S.P.C.A. and he pawed at the window steadily. First, with one paw; then he alternated with the other.
This gesture caught my youngest's eye and she had to bring him out and hold him. I walked up just as this was happening and I was witness to the instant and natural loving personality of this little guy.
I scratched his ears and leaned in to listen to his purr. "He has to pass the purr test," I told my youngest. I love when a cat purrs like a motor. It makes my knees go weak when I can hear that purr across a room (Senior Cat had that awesome purring talent).
His purr wasn't loud, but it was steady and came easily.
I reached out to take a turn holding him and it was as if this little kitty reached his arms out to me at the same time and climbed into my arms like a toddler alternating from one parent's arms into the other. It took my breath away.
I held him for a while then moved him a little to shift my hold on him. Then he hugged me. It was unmistakeable. He clasped his little arm around my neck and held on in a way I've never been held by a cat.
He has hugged us time and time again. You can see the way he clasps onto the neck of the one who is adoring him.
I don't know if he treated everyone the same as he treated us. Most likely. I think he would have went home with anyone who cared to adopt him. But he found us.
And so he came into our home with the attitude, "I'm home, at last!!"
He wandered through the house and explored the nooks and crannies (and apparently the ceiling in the laundry room as well) with great curiosity.
He met our Only Cat and each of them gave the other the nose-to-nose greeting without a hiss or a howl or anything other than just plain old curiosity (the low grade meowl from our pre-existing cat in residence came later, as they worked out the status among felines between themselves).
 |
| King Cat in Residence to the left; New Kitty to the right. |
My youngest then showed him her room. I unofficially call my youngest's room The Cat Room because it is where all in-house cats go to rest. Her room speaks to our cats. It seems to be where they are drawn to when they need some time away from the busyness within our home.
Then he came back upstairs and discovered our cat fountain. "Ooooo! What is this? This house really comes fully equipped" is what it seemed like he was thinking as he explored and tasted the water from this fountain.
 |
| Our New Kitty loves to lay down beside the cat water fountain - a little white noise calms his little kitty soul |
His first night with us started with a yowl (probably from King Cat) as they started working out the hierarchy between themselves. So I convinced New Cat to sleep with me for a while, while my youngest took King Cat into her room to reaffirm he had not lost any status in our home. By the morning, this was their status:
Still some work to be done
It's all been gravy since then. New Cat has endeared himself with my little daycare family and is all about playing and being part of the crowd.
This process of getting to know "Jet", our New Kitty, has been enjoyable thus far. I like watching what he brings out within our little family. My youngest and I have found more to talk about (after feeling like I had lost her to computer games, YouTube and the Internet). He is bringing the kitten out of "Ray", our resident King Cat. I love losing myself to the great wonders of cats. Together and apart. I love when he wraps his little kitty arm around my neck and chooses to come and snuggle up beside or on top of me.
Most of all, I am so very happy and grateful that this mutual adoration and contentment seems to be a two way street. He looks pretty happy here within our heart and home.
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| Jet may not be the King Cat, but he is most definitely the King of the Kid's Castle |
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Overwhelmed by Procrastination
The words are not flowing well these days. I must have them bottlenecked up somewhere in between my head and my fingertips and I have no idea what is being held captive, as I really don't know where this post is going to go. I just know I have to write, in the hope of finding out what I'm thinking.
I am disgusted at my laziness lately. I have so many housekeeping items I should be tending, yet I seem to be ignoring everything.
Bookwork, writing, repairs, papers, notes and uncompleted tasks are every which way I look and they are haunting me.
Am I busy? Far from it. Is there any excuse for feeling this way? Not a one. I am simply overwhelmed because I am sitting smack dab in the middle of a whole pile of little jobs left undone.
I feel depleted. The question is why?
I think a lot of it has to do with procrastinating. It takes far more energy not to do something, than it does to start chiselling away at the mountain.
I know this, yet I do nothing about it.
I feel like I'm not following through on anything I start. I think I'm wasting time and energy sitting here writing about where I am "at" and why.
I would be better off if I took the next fifteen minutes before my daycare day begins and see how many things I can do.
That is exactly what I shall do. Something.
I am disgusted at my laziness lately. I have so many housekeeping items I should be tending, yet I seem to be ignoring everything.
Bookwork, writing, repairs, papers, notes and uncompleted tasks are every which way I look and they are haunting me.
Am I busy? Far from it. Is there any excuse for feeling this way? Not a one. I am simply overwhelmed because I am sitting smack dab in the middle of a whole pile of little jobs left undone.
I feel depleted. The question is why?
I think a lot of it has to do with procrastinating. It takes far more energy not to do something, than it does to start chiselling away at the mountain.
I know this, yet I do nothing about it.
I feel like I'm not following through on anything I start. I think I'm wasting time and energy sitting here writing about where I am "at" and why.
I would be better off if I took the next fifteen minutes before my daycare day begins and see how many things I can do.
That is exactly what I shall do. Something.
Monday, June 22, 2015
A New Chapter - Another Cat Story
It was ten weeks, almost to the hour, after losing Andre (our Senior Cat) when we walked up to the counter at the S.P.C.A. and said, "One of your cats has adopted us..."
And so a new chapter begins.
Andre will never be replaced. I wouldn't even want to try. No other cat could hold a candle to who he was and how he grew into our family with each purr, each adventure, each cuddle and each endearing story he created during fifteen years of loving him.
My Youngest suggested we consider getting a dog. I agreed. A different species. A loving little critter who would draw us out of ourselves, our home and old habits.
We aren't "dog people". Dogs require so much attention and exercise and one-on-one loving. They are so needy. Could we do this?
We considered the idea separate and apart and talked of the responsibilities of dog ownership. We decided if we adopted a dog, it would have full reign of the house. Our last dog was sorely neglected and we found him a new family because he deserved so much more than we had to offer.
Have we changed? Do we have what it takes to love a dog the way he/she deserves? Can we wholeheartedly commit to a dog?
We thought it over. I had been reading dog bios written by the foster families of a few different dog rescue groups. I thought if we were going to follow through on the idea of adopting a dog, I really wanted to know as much as we could about the dog and making sure we were a good "fit" before we brought a dog into our lives.
I think we missed the boat on a dog who could have been the one for us. But if I wasn't ready to commit, it was good we missed that opportunity.
What I did want to see was exactly how it felt to meet and greet some dogs and see if the right feelings came to the surface when we spent some one-on-one time with a dog. Thus, our trip to the S.P.C.A.
There were only four dogs available to be adopted. Two of the four seemed like possible contenders. My youngest had her eye on one in particular, so we took her into the socialization room. And she ignored us. She just wanted out! She cried and whined and had her eye on everything besides us. Clearly, we weren't her dream family either.
I think the dog interview added more doubts than reassurances. I wasn't ready to adopt a dog without knowing more about their personality and whether or not they were good with children. The only thing I felt after we met "Stella" was that we had to be more certain than I felt in that moment.
Then I asked my youngest, "So do you want to check out the cats?"
Well, as they say, the rest is history. We wandered into the first cat room and there was no more room at the inn. They were filled to capacity and we had no idea there was an incentive to clear out as many cats as possible before our New Cat adopted us and made it impossible to leave without him.
There were so many cats. My immediate thought was to get a cat who did not resemble Andre in any way. Andre was one of a kind. I did not want to look for any cat to walk in the paw prints he left in our hearts.
Orange cats, tabbies, tortoiseshell and every color of cat you could hope to find. And who saw us and immediately started beckoning us to let us out and love him? Another little black kitty.
He was the only cat who came to the window and tried to find his way out of his confined space and into our hearts. He "knew" we were his family. He called to us.
My youngest opened the door and this little black kitty immediately started loving her. Then me. He snuggled. He purred a quiet but steady little purr. And he drooled. There was no going back. "Jet" had found the family he wanted to go home with.
We brought him into our home and introduced him to "Ray", aka "Junior Cat" and recently delegated to our "Only Cat".
There wasn't one hiss. I would have loved to know what Ray thought when Jet walked out of the cat carrier and into our lives. It seems to me that for a millisecond he may have wondered if Andre had finally come home again, before he picked up his scent and realized this little black furball was an imposter.
There has been a little cat "posturing" going on around here to determine who falls where, in the hierarchy of cats.
Ray is a beta cat, through and through, and the last thing we want is a bossy little cat taking over his well deserved designation of "King Cat". From every interaction we saw between them, it didn't appear that was going to happen. It was sort of sad to see Ray, our passive, beta cat, fighting to hold onto his title. He made a few aggressive moves (only in voice and stature - I never saw him lift a paw to his new little buddy) to ensure this New Cat knew where he fell in the cat ranks within our home.
But a mere twenty four hours later, the lines in the sand seem to have been drawn. I sat back and enjoyed a little "cat chase" around the house. Jet has brought the kitten back out of Ray and it appears that each of them are falling into a comfortable spot within this two cat family home.
Andre, we could never in a million years replace you. Never.
But when this little cat started speaking to us, from the confines of his cage at the S.P.C.A., it was almost as if a little bit of your spirit came back into our home with this tiny young one-year-old cat. We have missed your snuggling nature ever-so-much. And a cat who loves to curl up on top of, beside and even jumps from one set of arms into another has found his way home to us.
I like to think we saved a life when we adopted our young, new cat. It feels like he has breathed life back into this quiet, one-cat-home. We are so grateful he found us.
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| Meet "Jet" - a little cat, with a big, fluffy tail |
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| Ray meets Jet |
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| Jet loves this new forest within his new home. Ray supervises |
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| A whole new chapter has begun. We are ready. |
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