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!
No comments:
Post a Comment