It's been a crazy summer. I had every intention of trying to blog at least once or twice a week, but that pretty quickly went out the window.
It kinda started with this:
And ended up here:
Yes, that's my poor spouse banished to the loveseat in the background while I take up the couch with two kittens.
Why did kittens add such a stressor that it tipped the balance to make blogging unmanageable? I'm glad you asked! Mostly because it gives me a chance to talk about kittens...
The Monday before we were due to pick up my stepdaughters (we were meeting on a Saturday), we received news that my older stepdaughter had been allowed to pick out a seven week old kitten. Clearly, this threw a bit of a wrench in our summer plans, because we couldn't imagine separating her from a pet that was so young for six weeks. It would make her miserable, and by the time she returned to her mother's, he wouldn't be her cat anymore.
So we okayed the cat--"Batman--coming to stay for the summer also.
Now, I've never been around cats. My mom is a cat person who inadvertently married a man who is terribly allergic to cats, so growing up, we had no cats. Indeed, I wasn't entirely sure that I, personally, wouldn't be allergic to cats (spoiler: I'm not!).
At first, I panicked. He wasn't litter trained, or vaccinated, or neutered. He was literally the offspring of a nearly feral cat. And again, I had no knowledge of what we'd be in for.
I armed myself with knowledge via several cat-savvy friends. We purchased litter boxes, and scratching posts, and kitten chow, and toys. And lo and behold, the little guy fit right in with our family. Indeed, having a cat around enhanced my own comfort in this home, something you guys know I've struggled with.
But the specter of the end of the visit loomed, and I was confronted with the fact that in a few short weeks, we'd be a cat-less household again. So I pulled a trump card and told my very dear spouse that all I wanted for our anniversary and my birthday was a cat. We saw an article in our local paper where our local county shelter was pleading for help due to a high number of surrenders, especially kittens, and on July 1, my very very dear spouse said, "Why don't we go ahead and take a look?"
Since it was to be my cat, we went together but left the kids behind. The very first cube we looked into had a litter of four kittens born on April 20. This little face was staring out:
Her name was Marianne. I did my due diligence and looked through all of the kittens, nearly fifty of them total, and still, she was there. And so she came home with me.
Originally, I hadn't intended to change her name, but on the ride home, thinking about her tenacity and spunk, I landed on a name from one of my fandoms that really seemed to fit: Lyanna (Ly for short).
But wait, Kayla Sue! I can see you saying. There's two kittens in that last picture!
Why, by jove, you are right! Our shelter was still struggling, and so fifteen days later, we brought home a gray tiger. Again, she was in the first few cubes we looked at... but every time I looked up while looking through kittens, she looked at me with this very stern glare that said, "You know I am the one you want." This time, all four children had come with (but Spousal Unit was at home recovering from surgery), and they immediately fell in love too. And so Cordelia came home with us, and was re-christened Minerva, after Professor McGonagall of Harry Potter fame, because she's an incredibly judgmental gray tabby:
She's clearly judging your life choices, but can you blame her? Make better ones! :-P
Anyway, all told, between the kids, Matt's surgery, and the new additions, there just wasn't time to do real justice to all of the thoughts in my head, so I took the time to spend with the fam in favor of coming back energized later on.
And here I am.
And there you are.
I've got lots to talk about, although I won't launch into that until tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy the gratuitous cat pictures I have shared, and leave me a note with what you've been up to in the comments.