Sunday, February 24, 2013

Life's Minor Interruptions

Blogging consistently gets hard sometimes, when you're a mom.  While I'd like to think that moms and dads divide the work of raising a family equally somehow, the fact is that most of the time, I'm the one the boy runs to for help.  It just ends up that way, through nobody's fault, at least for right now.  I'm also the one that the pets run to, as well.  I am pretty sure that this is only because I'm usually the one feeding them all, but there's always the possibility that they like me, too.  

While our cat Zena and our pup Maisy have bonded and do all of the wonderful racing around the house and the backyard, my cat Pounce has remained upstairs, under the bed.  She will come out when I am up there, and sometimes when Larry is up there, but she is afraid of Zane.   And Maisy. And she isn't really fond of Zena.  So I am, for the most part, her sole source of interaction, play, cuddles, scritches, and hugs.

So when I am in the computer room, after everyone has gone to sleep, Pounce creeps out from under the bed, and comes to find me.  I am typing away on my blog, and then there's a cat in front of the screen.  I pet her a moment, then put her on the chair next to me so I can finish typing. 

A second later, she is back, and this time she strolls across the key board, inadvertently deleting what I just typed.  I pet her while I say a few curse words under my breath, then I put her on the chair again.  Just as my fingers begin to retype, there's Pounce, and this time she is sitting on the mouse.  Since she is purring loudly, I know that she is wanting affection, but she is starting to drive me a little insane.  I want to finish my thoughts, hit publish, and go to bed.  Pounce has other plans.  I can't close the door to the room because it is late and she'll wake up the house with her meowing.   I feel sorry for her, that she is so locked into her crazy that she won't trust the rest of the house at all.  Maisy would love to play with her, and Zane is just waiting to pet her. 

If only she would come out from under the bed when everyone is awake.

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…
  • Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
  • Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
  • Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
  • Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post (in the sidebar). .
  • Link up your post here.
  • Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.


  1. A little kitty therapy? A catnip-tini?

    1. I got her one of those "calm" collars today, so we will see if thay makes a difference.

  2. I have often said that Mr. Chewey is my fourth child.... Because when the rest are all asleep... there he is DEMANDING my attention.

    1. Mr. Chewey is an extraordinary name! I love it.

    2. Chewey was his given name from the shelter... the "mr." he commands. :)

  3. Ha! We should be so lucky if our pets actually like us ... I just think they know on which side their bread is buttered!!! Or maybe it's just me!!!


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