Morning cat

This is what I see first thing in the morning, every morning: a cat in my face.

I stir out of a dream, blindly grope over to the nightstand to get a drink of water, and unintentionally give Mai reason to think that I’m awake. She bounds up onto the bed and, once she realizes Hubby wants nothing to do with her, plants herself squat on my chest, peering into my face with a deliberate stare that sometimes frightens me with its intensity. Why aren’t you up yet, she asks. I’m awake, so you should be, too. That cat wants scritches, and she wants them now. I suppose it’s better than her slapping me awake. But only marginally better.


A shift in the balance of power

Hubby and I got a cat.

We already had a cat. Nothing happened to her. We just got another one.

Something happened to me two months ago that has happened with increasing frequency during recent years: my maternal instinct started kicking in. Big time. Perhaps it’s because I’m in my prime childbearing years, and I’ve long since passed the age at which my mother had me. Perhaps it’s because most of my friends have moved on from being newlyweds to being new parents. Perhaps it’s being recently wed to the Sweetest Man on the Face of the Earth and the questions have shifted from “When are you going to get married?” to “When are you going to have a baby?” All that combined with hormones that are screaming, “BABIES!!!” makes it pretty unbearable at times.

Hubby and I want to have children. Just not now. We’d like to enjoy more than a couple months or years together in wedded bliss before we have to turn our attentions to something other than ourselves. But a couple months ago, I smacked a sort-of ultimatum before him: it’s either a baby or a kitten. More

Not dead

No, gentle readers, I am very much alive. I’ve just had nothing of interest or value to post for the last thirty nine days.

Until I get myself back into regular blogging mode (which will hopefully be sometime in the relatively near future), here is a photo of my kitteh. Her name is Mai. She likes to smack my face while I’m sleeping. She’s weird.

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