do not use my face as a stepping stone

if you don't already know this UNDENIABLE fact: i have cats. i collect them. nah. i stopped picking them up 9 years ago. that was the last one, when i was pregnant with Emma. there were four. sadly, we had to put one down last month and now her ashes are buried in my backyard. i promised the kids we'd plant some flowers there in that spot. we should do that. soon.

...so now there are three. i have a love/hate relationship with my aging cats. they are soft and purr-y. that part is nice.

they all sleep with me. well, with me AND Noah. you see, getting Noah to fall asleep is a process. we have a method: i contort myself into this pretzel-like configuration that suits him. he kicks my boobs while trying to settle into a comfortable nest, and i mumble answers to math problems and make up words for him to rhyme. Noah falls asleep with mE usually. and i fall asleep too. and i am too exhausted, weary, sleep-deprived--i cannot wake up and carry him to bed. i don't even get a shower until 4 a.m. when my bladder wakes me up. by then, what is the point in carrying him to bed? hell, it's almost daylight.

anyway, they sleep with us. after fourteen years of cat fur up my nose, i'm used to it. really. nearly oblivious. i even welcome cat breath. it is comforting. BUT i swear, PEANUT, if you use my face as a stepping stone to get to MY precious, comfy pillow, i am going to throw you. because she will. half asleep, i cover my face with my down comforter, silently willing her to make it smoothly from my shoulder to said pillow. or PEANUT, if you jump up when i'm on the bed, then hook your cat talons into my side or shoulder blade, and use me to hang on and climb up, it is not going to be pretty.

i tolerate them. they tolerate us. there is so much love!

faith

i weighed the pros and cons. seriously have weighed them. lord. several panic attacks later because i have no idea who is going to watch my kids for the 572nd weekend in a row... i just did it. put my notice in. one more weekend, and i am done. finito. oh, i am going to miss my client's daughter unbelievably; i enjoyed our Fridays immensely. but i have this ongoing list in my head. a list that is not lines of excuses, but viable reasons. like, my 1999 car can breathe a sigh of relief at not having to travel 240 miles a week. all that gas money... all that money for sitters. sitters who come into my home and leave me dirty dishes, dirty towels, unfed cats, popcorn in my sofa, and my precious shrimp--gone, baby, gone. i have had a paycheck. sure. but what's left of it after i pay all these necessary fees just to get to my job? well, i will tell you, there isn't much.

so i have prepared myself here to live on a dream for a minute. and faith, of some sort, since i am not religious. but i do have a sense of Spirituality that gets me through.

so now my busy brain (it hurts, there is so much happening in my head) is zip-zapping currents, shouting out orders, things to be done. mow the lawn! get that recycling organized and go drop it off! sort through clothes! size them! label them! you should have a yard sale sometime soon! did you buy price stickers?! get back online and apply for another Freelance writing job! you will get one!! you will! don't doubt! keep getting the word out that you can babysit! oh, yeah. work on your next book!
... and so on.

Faith in...


myself.

and others.

i have.

i believe a door will open.