High Maintenance

No, the title's not referring to me...

Today my sinuses are reminding me they're still operational. The 75 degree weather is probably partially to blame. But what I did yesterday is also, methinks.

My papa Bill manages the food booths at the Montgomery County Fairgrounds in addition to his myriad other volunteer activities there and elsewhere. His favorite part of the year is when he answers the phones at the fair office when the fair is happening. The questions he hears are ridiculous.

Anyway, the Laytonsville Lions Club, of which he is a part, had volunteered to staff the food booth for, wait for it, the Capital Cat Fanciers. This is ironic, because Papa Bill despises cats, unless they are working in the barn. Otherwise, he thinks they are annoying as hell and makes that abundantly clear when he is at my house. "Get away, damn cat" is probably said five times in an hour of his presence here. (Although I think he has a begrudging non-dislike for Disney.)

What is also amazing is that my husband allowed me to go to a cat show. He made sure I was carrying a small purse so I could not smuggle any new friends home. Luke strongly believes in a one cat per person rule for our family. Introducing a new one means someone has to go. And yes, we would all three of us say Beckham. But he will probably outlive Disney (they're six years apart), because that's how annoying Beckham is.

Also amazing, Luke didn't have a sneezing fit or watery eyes. He doesn't take his Zyrtec regularly. I do, but I still think part of my congestion is all the kitties. We're both allergic, but I didn't encounter any Russian Blues, which really affect me.

We enjoyed the Maine Coon cat that was the size of a small collie. Same coloring too. There was a four-month-old kitten that I definitely wanted to take home. He was a little nervous as it was his first show. The judges at the show also impressed us as they explained the criteria for assessing the cats. It was hard to follow along sometimes or see why certain cats weren't winners. We spent a couple of hours running from ring to ring to see the long-hairs and the kittens as they went through the multiple rounds.

At dinner last night at Mom & Bill's favorite restaurant, Italian Pines, we were discussing the potential for any of our cats to qualify for a show. More than just the qualifying - but the serenity of these cats. They get introduced to the circuit at four months old, if they're better than pet quality. A woman with two fluffy six-month old Himalayans said their brother was "petted out." "You can just tell immediately if they're pets."  They weren't scared, one was very playful (not a perfect Himalayan) and just sprawled out. She said she has to wash them THREE times/week. They were absolutely gorgeous.


But my mom said Disney could be a show cat. So as I was brushing my teeth this morning, while Disney is halfway in the sink drinking water (it's Luke sink, not mine), I allowed myself to dream of taking my cat to a cat show. How I'd sit there brushing Disney. How he's too fat. How his tail has a crick at the end, probably from birth.

He may not be show quality, but he's high quality when it comes to love & low maintenance when it comes to grooming. He's sleeping on his back next to me, dreaming of chasing mice or birds with his front paws twitching and his back paws quivering.

Shh, the baby's sleeping

Last night, I started to shush Lil. It was 9:30 and we were reading our books on the couch in the living room.

Luke was watching something in the family room, but he has his headphones. It's been our little tradition that Lil & I read on the couch before bedtime. I enjoy it as Lil tells me snippets from her day or reads me something from her book.

Something caused her to laugh and I shushed her. An instinctual reaction of Well, it's dark and Lil is upstairs sleeping so keep your voices down. But she's not, because she's in middle school and has inherited my night owl genes. Luckily, she has not gotten my Olympic ability for sleeping and gets up easily in the morning.

It just felt surreal. Where have the past 11 years gone? What will it feel like when she isn't here?

Regardless of those answers, it doesn't matter. We just have to enjoy everyday we have with each other. Wishing for her cute little baby feet means I'm not focused on the present. Nostalgia is not always a productive place.

But please do be quiet, Baby Disney is sleeping on his back next to me and from the jerks of his paws, I think he's dreaming of chasing critters.

Scheduling Summer

Now that school's out, I'm having a toddler-like reaction to the craziness of summer.

Ah, summer - time to schedule all those appointments - no need to worry about school! Yay!

On the very first Monday, I slammed two into one day. Unintentionally. My calendar on my computer is not synced with my phone. Lil wanted to go to the pool with her Nature Camp friends, which conflicted with her original dental appointment. Quick call - Monday, 4:15? That's PERFECT. Whew. Crisis avoided there.

Until the following day when I received a reminder from her orthodontist about her appointment at 4:50 on Monday.

So I prayed to the traffic gods that play with our lives on Rt. 29 everyday starting at, um, when does morning rush hour end? 10:30 AM? Can we make it from Atholton to Ellicott City in less than 15 minutes?

Also, who wants a dental cleaning followed by wire tightening? Irrelevant question, ok?

Luckily I showed up at the dentist at 3:45 and there had been a cancellation, so my crazy plan was accommodated.

Luckily for Lil, no tightening - just a check to see they can be removed. But then when to schedule that appointment? Oh, the day of her show at CCTA? Uh, no. She's Peter Pan in one of the scenes (there are multiple Pans so they can learn lines quickly in six days).

I choose 10:30 - put it in the phone, cc my husband, who actually never looks at what I send him, just accepts as "Tentative" - and move on.

Oh, right, I have a doctor's appointment that day that I didn't see on my phone.

Did I mention Disney is due for his annual exam next week? Which the hubby refuses to attend because he's afraid of the vet scolding us for how portly our 15 month old cat is...

I'm thinking of going back to paper.

Filling the bucket

Two things happened yesterday that spotlighted something I try to avoid in my life...being known as a negative complaining person. I do complain about lots, like the ants in the shower at the gym, people on their cellphones in the bathroom, slow drivers, etc. When I complain to the people at the gym at the ants, I try to be neutral - "Hey, there are ants." Not "Hey there are ants and this place is disgusting and what the hell are you doing about it because there are ants!"

But I was talking to a friend about a mutual acquaintance that we were with recently. Apropos of nothing, she said "Wow, she is SO negative. She just complained the entire time we were together." I said, "Yes, I found it very draining." My friend said, "That's exactly the right word."

My daughter's school awards ceremony reminded me of that later on as one of the awards she got was the class Bucket Filler award. Quick lesson: positive actions and words fill a bucket while negative ones deplete a bucket. Her classmates voted her as this quarter's bucket filler.

When I spoke to her later, I asked her which award did she think was the most surprising or which made me proud, etc. She said the Bucket Filler award and I said I liked that one the best too.

I'm not a natural bucket filler. I often say or do things that don't even occur to me as being negative because I see them through my Kirstycat filter rather than through the rest-of-the-world filter. I don't go out of my way to invite people to do things as I assume I'll be rejected - I'm rather shy/unconfident in that perspective. People are often surprised to find out that I'm barely an Extrovert on the Myers-Briggs test.

My daughter has been filling my bucket at home too. Helping make dinner, making me laugh when I'm down and cleaning up cat hairballs. (VERY useful!) She is so much better socially than I was at her age (actually probably at any age).

(You know who is not a Bucket Filler? Derby cat. Because he is making it very difficult to type this post. When I try to push him off me, he grunts/growls at me. And then returns.)

My fortune cookie today was completely wrong - I am NOT quiet and unobtrusive. But hopefully I'm not loud, obtrusive AND constantly negative.

You know how you could be a bucket filler tomorrow? VOTE in the Columbia elections. (Of course, only if you live in Columbia.)  Meeting quorum in our villages is not easy even if there isn't a contested elections.

Bully for You

Watching The Imitation Game on Sunday, one scene stood out for me. No, not solving the Enigma code, not the immense size of the machine, not even the jitters Turing suffered as a result of the chemical castration punishment.

It was the scene where a young, maybe teenaged, Turing is buried under floorboards by his classmates. He's essentially in a coffin. His predators NAIL him in there and proceed to stamp or jump on the floorboards. He fights for a little while, banging on the boards, but then he overcomes his fear. He lies still and stops giving them the power.

Alan Turing: "Do you know why people like violence? It is because it feels good. Humans find violence deeply satisfying. But remove the satisfaction, and the act becomes... hollow."

I can still recall how the cicada cycle of 1987 affected me. A younger kid chased me around the playground holding a cicada. It was horrible. But I played into his hands and everybody laughed.

Not that we shouldn't stop our attempts to end bullying, but we, and I speak as a parent of a tween girl, need to encourage kids how to react.

Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off" encourages that attitude of not caring - not giving into others' desire to feel better about themselves by taking someone down a notch. My daughter initially thought this song was about calling attention to your backside, but I told her that I love this song, because it's really about turning the other cheek (Sorry, I can't resist!!).

But the song I really love by Ms. Swift is "Blank Space." Because she acknowledges that her dating life has been pretty public, her ex-boyfriends think she's crazy and she's a risk. Obviously, being a famous singer, she is going to be subject to gossip and pointed fingers. But laughing at herself makes her more in control of the narrative. (Full disclosure: I love Taylor's Scottish Fold kitties and that she carries them around NYC with her. I'd do it with Disney if I could.) Choosing to own your foibles can disarm your detractors as well as make it boring for them to target you - the "hollowness" of Turing's statement.

Bullying is not just a kid problem. I've worked for several bullies. Other parents, especially moms, can bully each other - "You haven't signed up little Billy for walking lessons? He's going to be behind the other one year olds in his class. But I guess that's your prerogative." I'm sure I'm guilty of bullying - my husband might call it manipulating, but it is a form of bullying. There are several people I know that I'd consider bullies, but they are in a position of power that tacitly approves it.

As in the case of the free-range parents discussed on Facebook yesterday, we as parents need to provide our children with tools for life. Teaching them how to cross the street safely is as important as dealing with adversity in its many forms. There will always be dominant personalities that assert power over others, whether in the workplace or in religious matters. It might not be physical but emotional and psychological bullying are everpresent.

Happiness is...

There's a happiness challenge going round, and rather than pity myself for not being a cool kid, I'll just do it anyway.

I'm happy for a lot of reasons.

My daughter got her ears pierced, overcoming her anxiety, and chose beautiful blue green flower earrings. With her braces color coordinated, for now, she looks totes adorbs.

She has 2 weeks off from ballet, which I think is good and we all need. Her studio is awesome, but a little break to settle into the new school year is a good idea.

I get to watch Luke play cricket next week. He's jolly good for a beginner!

I'm exploring the political world & meeting really smart, funny, hard-working people. I'm learning a ton & I often encounter new situations. But I'm thinking on my feet pretty well.

I reconnected to one of my favorite professors from Maryland on the campaign trail. He taught me how to say my name...and I use it all the time. It's not kristin like Christian, it's not kir like the cocktail, it's cur like curse. (The last one may be slightly off, but you get the gist.) He hosted a study group where we sat around reading Chaucer in Middle English. So, actually, could be my fave prof outright!

And there's Disney...every morning Derby perches on the counter waiting for me to turn on the faucet. Disney, being a fearless kitten, has become fascinated with water. He tries to catch, he puts his head under the sink and makes a nuisance of himself to me & Derby. So Beckham has decided to join as well, so now I've got 3 cats on a double sink counter while I'm brushing my teeth. Which was my excuse to the hygienist today as to why I don't brush really well!

Cat-harsis

Last night, when we couldn't find our kitten Disney, I sat in shock. How had we lost our 3 weeks-new-to-us 15 week old kitten? We searched every room. Lil asked us to tell her when we found him and don't worry about waking her. After half an hour or so, I noticed that she had shut her door. I felt like she was giving up and if she was, I was having a hard time maintaining hope.

Luke & I walked around the neighborhood, shaking a bag of cat food. We looked under cars. I sent emails to neighbors, warning them to look under their cars in the morning.

I was mentally & physically exhausted.

When Lil heard my alarm go off, she came upstairs with Disney in her arms. "Daddy left us a note!" When he was preparing to look for Disney before leaving for work, he saw Disney walking around by the big cats' food bowl. (It's very cute - Disney puts his paw in the bowl while he's eating.)

Still no idea where the heck he was hiding. Luke is thinking about putting a GPS on him. Which is ironic, because when I took him to the vet for his vaccine booster, the tech asked me about his microchip. And I scoffed and said to myself, "C'mon, it's a cat."

I held in my tears last night. As I have been doing for a while. I've been feeling like crying for a few weeks. I almost let loose last week after I presented at the Columbia Association meeting for Inner Arbor.

I feel sad. I feel lonely. I don't feel great physically. I felt angry. I am scared. So I cried. I could probably use a few more minutes.

But I cried and let it some of it out. And then the kitties & Luke & Lil made me laugh. Catharsis - it's OK. Once I say my problem or scream in pain, like stubbing my toe, I feel so much better. It's the trapping & the repression that really hurts me.

Jumping Junebugs

The first or two weeks of June are my least favorite. Every year, there are too many things going on. Ballet recitals, school concerts, spring fairs & other wrap-up events are crammed into a space too small to fit. This year has thrown me another curveball, learning how to be, I mean being, Field Director for Tom Coale.

But I'm managing through it pretty well. I hit my head pretty severely Thursday morning, while I was testing the structural integrity of the soap holder in the bathtub. Good news - it's on there REALLY securely. Bad news - I have 6 stitches on the back of my head and a couple goose eggs around & thought I bruised my ribs.

When I was in college, I would make lists to keep organized & just think to myself in the shower, in two hours, that exam will be over. Knowing that time would pass helped me calm down & ease my anxiety over said upcoming trial. I did that a little this weekend. I could not wait until Saturday was over. With my head wound, I didn't do that much...Luke took Lil to the spring fair at school & helped out, he worked on installing a yard sign for the campaign (the best one yet methinks) & he cleaned up the kitchen. Although that's not completely true, I did do voter analysis & remembered how to use Excel. But I needed 9 PM to roll around.

We ate crappy Tex-Mex at my favorite crappy Tex-Mex place - On the Border - and worked on Washington Post Sunday crossword puzzles that have been piling up in my car. And I felt a lot of stress roll off my back. Sunday was a lazy day too, although I should remember I am accomplishing a lot even though I'm not at my full 100%. Some of what I'm accomplishing involves telling Luke what to do though...

Update on my fall: The pain in my side has decreased, so I went to the gym today despite Lil telling me last night, "I wouldn't advise going to the gym, Mama."  Right now, I'm a little woozy. I didn't eat much until 3:15, so I'm chalking it up to that a wee bit. While I was eating my leftover chili, however, I seemed to have a heat flash. An icepack from D'Artagnan Gourmet Meats is currently resting on my neck. No idea where it came from, but it is proving useful.

And today, a day where I've struggled to remember it's Monday, I found something amazing... He's not a replacement, but might fit the requirements for addressing our felines to people ratio.

The ring is found!

When my husband arrived home last night, my daughter asked him if he was mad at me. He reassured her that no, he was sure he'd find it.

Sure enough, he did. He was about to go through my car, which he refers to as the Bookmobile due to Lil's & my addiction to library books.

Is this my car?

He saw it hidden in a little cranny of the stairs. I have no idea how it got there. Beckham, our rotten 7 year old kitten, is usually involved in ponytail elastic thievery. He's a multiple offender, especially given his shared residence with a ballerina. If I can't find a ponytail holder on Lil's dresser, I just need to look down at the carpet & there's bound to be one. Derby, our lovebug, has multiple assault arrests from constantly headbutting us for attention & unlawful restraint as demonstrated below. (She's a minor, so I don't think she can consent?)

Jewelry heists are not as common from my boys. Beckham has been known to test gravity, but only in the kitchen from the breakfast bar to the floor. And again, that's commonly ponytail holders. Poor Beckham, remedial physics FTW.

When Luke found it, he proposed again. I said yes, in tears of happiness. My friends on Facebook have been VERY funny. A bridesmaid not sure about wearing the dress again, will I change my FB status from Married to Engaged, etc.

Since I'm now engaged, I'm thinking destination wedding...or on a cruise!! Quantum of the Seas is launching in November, so that would be lovely! Who's coming with us???

A Tail of Two Kitties

Chippa - Sept 2013

Chippa doesn't look like this anymore. In the last few weeks, she has lost what seems like half her body weight. She was more than 13 lbs at her heaviest. She's always had short legs and had a big tummy so she had a Corgi like stature. It's rather hard to tell in this picture but she's a beautiful black & brown tabby. And we did not refer to her as fat, but "phat." 

We rescued a cute little male kitten from a feral rescue group in 2000. This kitten was not feral, though; the domestic mom had a fun night out and returned preggers. We liked the colors and he was pretty playful. We thought he'd be a good addition to my 2 year old Mischka's social life (not THAT social, you cheeky monkey!). Mischka was my first own-my-own cat and we thought she needed a pal. In general, I like male cats & I grew up with 2 male tabbies and was looking for that kind of cat.

The feral rescue group didn't offer spay/neutering services, so we dropped Chipwich (so named because of the chocolate chips on his tummy) off at Dunloggin to be neutered a few days later. For some reason, we were both at home - maybe a holiday, I can't remember...and the phone rang and it was the vet tech. 

Press pause for a second - Luke's college roommate had just gotten a dog & she didn't make it through the spaying surgery. 

I listen for a moment and say, "What? Really? Oh, yes, go ahead." I hang up & Luke is nearly jumping on me wanting to know what the call was about. "The vet just wanted to know if because it's a girl, we wanted to go ahead with spaying her." So Chipwich became Chippawich and since that sounded dumb, it just became Chippa. 

Chippa was the MOST fun kitten. At the time, we had a huge computer monitor and we played Roller Coaster Tycoon. Chippa would hop up on the desk & bat at the moving roller coasters on the screen. It was super cute. When the printer would rev up, she would run to it and swipe her little striped paw at the feeder. She had a big green top with a swinging catnip toy and she would drag it upstairs and downstairs. It was fun to see where it landed.

One night when we were doing dishes, Luke was making bubbles come out of the dish detergent bubble and she was trying to catch the bubbles. At one point, however, he was a little too gung-ho with the detergent and she got a huge dollop of the soap on her fur. 

Rubbing her off with a wet paper towel was clearly not going to get rid of the soap. So up we went to the bathtub for her first (and only) bath.

Bit by bit, she became more nervous...she hid more.  Luke thinks it was the introduction of this guy:

It became a 2 person job to take her to the vet. We have developed strategies over the past few years to trap her for her annual vet visit.

Six months ago, she started to approach us again. To hop up next to us on the couch and demand head-rubbings, to not run away if you pet her in her safe spot.

And I noticed that her eyes weren't dilating for a while. They started to again & I thought everything was OK.

But then she came to me one day (in the bathroom - we assume she feels safe there) and her body freaked me out. It had changed - her chest was swollen and her back was thin. Like all her weight had moved into the front of the body. She's been having hairballs and she used to eat plastic so we were used to her periodically wheezing & vomiting.

I picked her up a couple of times and emailed Luke - Chippa's dying. When he read it, he said "Sorry I can't be there." I replied "I'm having a glass of wine at the Bridge. She's your cat."

I don't know what the timeline is for Chippa, OUR Chippa. The Chippa that used to look at us with Dowager Countess Grantham sneers if she heard Lil cry. The Chippa that has the most beautiful coat that feels like satin and I mistake for the Roomba sometimes. The Chippa who 2 months ago watched something on TV and was following it with her head and contemplating batting the moving item on the screen.

We've prepared Lil for the imminent possibility...she vaguely remembers when we had to do the deed for Mischka. But I will treasure the last few months that she's rejoined the family.

 

Crazy things that happened today

While putting away the laundry today, I got distracted by my old jewelry box. I lost a ring a few years ago and still believe it must be lovingly stored. While I didn't find the ring, I did smell that lovely scent of my jewelry box. The musty, old velvet (fake), maple (?) odor arose and I remembered going through my mom's jewelry box. I would try on her necklaces, bracelets and look at the broken pieces that she kept in hopes of later repair. I found my grandmother's emerald bracelet today. I hadn't looked there for a couple of years & finding this was like the lost treasure. My heart raced - because I hadn't shared it with Lil. This is her namesake, Annunciata's, bracelet. It's at least 70 years old. Annunciata wore it. My mom wore it. I wear it. Lil will too. And when she realized who it belonged to, her eyes widened and understood that connection. My heart broke and repaired simultaneously.

The other amazing thing was that my cat Chippa curled up next to me. She was originally a feral rescue although the woman said she was part of a litter from an inside gal who escaped one night & met a nice tomcat. She started out as a fun-loving cat - she'd reach out for anything moving on a TV or monitor and watched the printer the second it started prepping the print job. But something happened to scare her 10 or so years ago & only in the last year has she been slightly ready to be close to us. And tonight, she curled up.

I have always found my cats to be more cuddly when it gets cold. It was 28 when I parked my car at Iron Bridge and that doesn't include wind chill. When I put Annunciata's bracelet on today, it was so cold. But I looked at it & said, emeralds get warm. And it has.

May those who seem cool become warm.

hocoblogs@@@

Feline friends

As you may notice, my Flickr photostream features cats. They are usually Derby & Beckham, my two male tabbies. Derby is 9 and Beckham is approaching 4. Their less photographed older sibling is Chipwich, a silky black & brown tabby. I initially named her Chipwich because her stomach had very distinctive black spots and they reminded me of the ice cream sandwich. She is 11 & has trouble jumping up to her water bowl. But she can move quickly - she has been a scaredy cat for 9 years and lives in fear of being caught. When caught, though, she will submit to petting and we try to scratch her back as well since she's 13 lbs & can't groom that well. Her legs are really short and "girth" is easily defined when looking at her. So I have two cats that are "geriatric" - many cats live until 18, but my childhood cats had thyroid problems & died around 14. And Beckham has changed from a kitten into a cat - he displays a lot less playfulness (which in many ways is great!) and is a sweet lovebug even more often. Luke told me that when we look for another cat after one passes, we can get a Maine Coon like my first (on my own) cat, Mischka. That cat will not be my Mischka. But it won't be a tabby. I am conflicted. I do want a fluffy, long-tailed cat full of personality. But I love the stalwart stolidness of the tabby. Writing this reminds me that while death is a horrible part of living, the world is so big & rather than constantly focusing on the loss, look forward. I will never forget that I asked the vet to put Mischka to sleep when she was suffering and watched her die. I will never forget the way the Mischka drooled on us when she sat on us & purred. I will never forget how the Mischka refused to give up her mama when Lil joined us - I can see her figuring out where to jump on my lap when I was nursing my "second" baby girl. I remember hearing horror stories about pets & new babies & knowing Mischka wouldn't be mad. When I had to put Lil in the bassinet or crib & Mischka was there & I had to remove her, she didn't get mad at me. She just waited for me to come back to bed so she could sit on me, her ultimate target. And drool.