Harley

It's 5 degrees and snowy outside. I'm sitting on the couch with Corbin, coffee in hand, watching Sid the Science Kid. Beef stew in the crock pot smelling up the house. Normally, this is the kind of day I dream of. But today I'm feeling melancholy. I still miss my buddy.

I was doing well for a couple days, but as I was looking through Christmas pictures last night to upload to Shutterfly for my 101 (not so) free prints, I succumbed to the temptation to click on that folder called "pets." There were subfolders with each pet's name. I hesitated, knowing good and well what the end result of my emotional state would be, then opened the file.

I've never so badly wanted to reach through the screen and touch something. I put my fingers on his picture and tears started falling. I missed seeing his sweet face.

And before you scoff, roll your eyes, or look at me very perplexed, please try to understand what it's like. I was this creature's mama from the time he was 4 weeks old. In fact, he was my first experience getting up in the middle of the night to feed a tiny baby. We've been through a lot together these past 4 years. A handful of events stand out in particular, but mostly he was my loyal companion, present through life's uneventful moments, whether we were outside grilling or inside watching a movie on the couch. His loud purr always gave away his best hiding spot. He was the most affectionate, intuitive, gentle, and docile cat I've ever seen. Gentle giant. He was huge. He could knock you down trying to beat you to the kitchen when it was time to fill his bowl. No, I didn't just bury a cat. I buried devotion, laughter, love, and life experiences all attached to that silky black feline.

The worst part, aside from missing him in the present, is wondering if I'll ever see him again. Do pets go to heaven? I don't know. Will my earthly furry companions be part of my reward and happiness when I'm in heaven? I wish I knew for sure, but I certainly hope so. I'm not saying I know better than God, but I think if I gave humans the ability to love an animal companion like this, I would have at least given them some sort of memo in regards to their afterlife. You know, like some sort of disclaimer as to what you're getting yourself into when you adopt that tiny kitten or puppy 20, 10, or in my case, 4 1/2 years down the road.

Eventually life will even out again and I'll go days, even weeks, without a tear. Then I'll find a tuff of hair, a picture, a toy, or some other reminder and remember why days like today just have to be. So for today, I'm allowing myself to be sad and grieve and mourn. If you're still reading at this point, thank you for hearing me out. Thank you for listening to what so many don't want to hear me say because he was "just a cat." But I know the truth. And I think he knew he was more than that, too.

Hello old friend

It's been a while, has it not? I've been meaning to get back to this for a while. I don't know what keeps me from it. Maybe all the sharing on instagram and facebook has temporarily fulfilled my need to write. I tried keeping an e-journal for a while, but it just wasn't the same not being able to share it with the World Wide Web. So let this day mark the revival of my blog!

On New Year's...

2013 was a crap hole of a year for me. You know the saying, "When it rains, it pours?" Well, my version would be, "75% chance of drizzle every other day with a 90% chance of downpours every 2-4 weeks." I went through a lot in 2013. A. Lot. Some things were made pretty public. Others, not so much. But let's just say I was ready to skip on into 2014 with high hopes for sunny days.

Only problem is, just like the weather doesn't care if the calendar says "winter," by golly you can expect it to be 75 degrees on December 21st. That's just how it works. And last night (NYE), life/the universe/forces that be/whatever decided to go out with a bang. My beloved feline baby, Harley, suddenly and unexpectedly went into congestive heart failure and within 7 hours, was gone from my life forever. He was put down just after midnight on New Year's day 2014. To save this from becoming a whole post about Harley (and to save my eyes, sinuses, and head from another sobfest), let me just leave it at this. A college professor of mine once said:

"I truly believe some animals are put on this earth to be your pet equivalent of a soul mate. Most people love their pets and will be sad when they pass. But there are those that take up a special part of your life that, when theirs ends, leaves you with a void that must be grieved over. "

I couldn't agree more. Now moving on before the tears start rolling again...

So last year my resolution was to lose the rest of the baby weight. I guess that was one of those intermittent "sunny days" of 2013. I did lose the weight and then some. I took up running and ran my first and only 5k in "not-too-bad" timing. My running shoes are on hiatus for the winter, because, well, I just don't do freezing temps. Or 50 degrees. Or whatever makes me feel uncomfortable, actually.

2013 was a big year for Corbin, too. He learned to walk, talk, feed himself, turned 1, fell down concrete steps, got 4 hair cuts, grew into a full-fledged toddler, went to the dentist, and became my best little sidekick.

So, for 2014, I have a few ideas in mind for my "official" resolution. I would like to grow my hair long enough to donate to Pantene for cancer patients. I would like to settle into a clothing size/weight and stay there longer than two months. I would like to get more involved in my church and start reading my bible everyday... Even if it means listening to it read to me on my bible app. Of course, I also want to get back into running and do a couple 5k's for motivation.

I'd also love to make some resolutions for other people. But surprisingly, not many people are open to my suggestions. Oh well. Go ahead and vow to eat healthier or save money. You know you wanna.

Corbin had some resolutions, too. Okay, so they're my resolutions for him. I may not be able to pick them for other people, but being someone's mother kinda gives you that privilege. Especially when they don't even know they're being resolved to anything yet.

So for starters, potty training. We're starting there already. He goes in his potty when you set him on it. He claps when he tinkles. He even says "uh oh doe!" when he sprinkles on the seat. For those who don't speak Toddler-ese, that translates to a combination of "uh-oh" and "oh no!" More men could adapt that sentiment, if you ask me. But anyways, I would like to start hitting it hard around his birthday. I don't want to push it, though. So we'll see how that goes.

Another goal is to lose the paci. I try to keep it away during the day, but the little smarty pants has learned all my hiding places. I caved and bought him a new pack this weekend. Enjoy them, buddy, for you only have 4 months left then I'm cutting you off!

And lastly, my... er... I mean Corbin's resolution will be to turn 2, probably get a few more hair cuts, and just grow and do his thang. Seriously, this kid is so smart and amazing, pretty soon he'll be training me. He can already operate the dvd player better than his grandparents.

So, there you have it. 2014 has gotten off to a terrible, no-good, really bad start. My head is killing me from all the crying but I'm trying to remain thankful for all the good things I do have in life. And to refrain from a secondary post of all my thankfulness, I'll just hum you a tune from Katy Perry's "Roar" and you'll get the picture... Song... Sentiment. Whatever.

Feline Found!

 Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you. 1 Peter 5:7

Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything; tell God your needs, and don't forget to thank Him for His answers. If you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ. Philippians 4:6-7


I'm writing this with a cheerful heart!  Saturday (1/12/13) Josh and I made more flyers and decided to go door-to-door and ask surrounding neighborhoods if they had seen a big orange cat.  We actually only spoke with 3 people, because everyone else was so rude not to answer their doors!  No, really.  It's bad when you see them come to their window, shush their dog, or walk away.  Rudeness.  Anyway, one person said they had seen an orange cat, another said he fed the neighborhood strays and would keep an eye out, and the third said he had only seen his neighbor's cat.  Since so few people would actually talk to us, we proceeded to stick flyers on everyone's mailboxes.

After about 45 flyers, we ran out.  We were going to go home, but I told Josh I wanted to make a few more...just for one more neighborhood.  So we did, and I guess we were about on our second or third street when I [finally] got a call from a lady saying she just missed us, but she got our flyer and thought she had our cat under her house.

Wha-what?

Apparently, the night before she was watching a movie alone and heard some "creature" saying "hewwooo" under her floor.  Scared, she called her husband, who told her to go open the door to their crawl space and let it out.  She was too afraid to, and decided to wait till morning when he got home.

So there we were, standing around these people's muddy yard (it had poured down rain all week), while Josh crawled around under their house.  Which was damp and had quite the collection of spiders.

Two glowing eyes and a panicked meow later, we found out their creature was actually Ginger!

Six days she had been trapped under their house.  Sunday afternoon, they opened the door for the cable guy and that's when she performed her disappearing act.  Six. Days.

How on earth did she survive six days without food and water?  Well, I'm not sure how she obtained food, unless he found a mouse.  She is quite thin now.

But water?  I'm pretty sure 2 or 3 days is the max to go without water. But remember the down pours?  Yep.  Those rainstorms I dreaded actually kept her alive.  Puddles from the flooding gave her enough water to stay hydrated all week.  Isn't God the awesomest? :)

I'm proud to report she is now safe and sound at home.  I'm so thankful God answered mine and the prayers of many family and friends for Ginger's return.  You never realize how much these little guys are a part of your family until they're gone!

So, even with all the disasters, tragedies, and epidemics going on in the world, God still cares about the little things.  He knows it's the little daily (or weekly) things that build our faith.  Isn't that awesome?



P.S.
The guy who fed all the cats called us that night to report some "jerk" driving around the neighborhood and stealing our flyers.  I had to laugh because that jerk was my husband who felt compelled to take the flyers back lest people think we're still looking.  HA HA!

Round 1 of flyers

Corbin helping out with round 2

SHE'S HOME!!!  (and hungry!)

Happy to be home!

When a kitty goes missing...

My cat Ginger has been missing since Sunday night. We've looked all over our neighborhood and others, put out flyers, and prayed. I'm trying really hard not to lose faith and get angry that God hasn't answered my simple prayer to bring a fluffy orange cat back to her home. Somehow I manage to keep believing that He loves me and even cares about my cat. But it's not easy for me. 

I crumble too easily; panic when God doesn't answer my prayers right away. I tell Him He doesn't really love me and obviously doesn't care about the little stuff. Ask Him why He can't do this simple thing for me. I miss my cat. I want her back home safe and sound. I don't want to count my other blessings because I don't want to be happy and forget that I'm sad that she hasn't come home yet. This is real. 

The way I see it, I have two options. 

One, I can give up, get angry at God, my "secret weapon" for all things difficult. I can cry and mope and tell myself God is a cruel, heartless master who doesn't care about the little things. 

Or two, I can resist Satan's tactic to temp me into cursing God, destroying my faith, and doubting the power of prayer. He knows what little things pull on my heart strings the most. And boy, is he yanking away.

I'm fighting for option 2.

I keep reading encouraging scriptures, humbly praying, and doing whatever I can physically to search for her.

I guess you could say I'm being tested. The last time I really felt tested was when the anatomy ultrasound found a cyst on Corbin's brain. I'm sure there are a handful of other traumatic events I no longer recall since they all have turned out perfectly in my favor. No, I'm not saying everything I've prayed for has come to past. I've had my share of heartaches, failures, and disappointments. But I'm still here, and I'm still alive, and I still have faith.

And I'm still praying for my Ginger to come home.

“We have to pray with our eyes on God, not on the difficulties.” ~ Oswald Chambers

Crawling!

So Corbin has learned to crawl. He pretty much does the whole belly dragging thing, which is fine. I mean, thats normal. But instead of moving one leg then the other, he has decided tobreak the confines of conventional crawling and go for the inchworm style. Both knees in, butt up, stretch out. Sometimes, when he is really on the move for something  he looks like he is playing leap frog. It is adorable!

I kind of hate him being moble because that means he is into ev.er.y.thing! Today alone, he broke an ornament, got stuck under a table, and trapped the cat in her kitty cube by trying to join her. Then later he was in the kitchen with me while I made the world's fastest fudge and he got into the water bowl. I seriously sat him on one end of the kitchen, ran to pour my fudge in a dish, and before I could finish, he had water everywhere. So, being the young mother that I am, I gave him a dish of water and let him go to splashy town! There is nothing cuter than a baby in a diaper playing with bowls on the kitchen floor. I would have taken a picture but my phone was dead and I didn't get my fancy digital camera on Black Friday like I wanted. [INSERT: forlorn puppy face].

Broken ornament

Baby Jail!

Also today, Sammy growled at Corbin for the first time. Actually, he snapped at him, too. Not sure what happened there. I didn't see Corbin do anything, but I'm thinking it has to do with Sammy being leary of anyone touching his back end. It's one of those things where you want to get mad at the animal involved but really can't because they are instinctually reacting. But at the same time, of course I can't have our dog biting at Corbin. Sammy yelped when Josh touched his side but I felt all over and he never even winced. Just like when we paid the vet $45 to pet Sammy for 20 minutes...to find nothing.

Be friends

Other than that, it has pretty much been blah and lazy days for us since Josh went back to work. Being broke and having a car seat hating baby sort of puts a strain on your social life. Oh well, at least I have time with my little fraaaand ;)

I can't feel my fingers

I'm aliiiiive! I feel like I've been in hiatus a while. There's been a whole mess of events going on in my life. None of which are terribly demanding or outrageous, but staying home all day, everyday, makes the little things count.

Like going to the mailbox.  Am I the only one who sees if there's anything interesting, then puts the bills and junk back in? Gotta give Josh something to look forward to at the end of the day.

But anyhoo...

So, we had this little cold snap here in Tennessee. We went from 80's to 50's and suddenly everyone is busting out the hoodies and ugg boots. I, myself, have a giant bookcase blocking the closet door where my hoodies and ugg knock-offs are stored, so I just wore my 80 degree attire and made fun of those people all snug in their warm clothes. Because, after all, people in the northern states probably laugh at us just as much for wearing thermal underwear in the 50's as they do for us shutting down school for a chance of snow.  Regardless, I still froze my butt off.

Speaking of yanks, my good friend, Brittani, aka the southern yankee, came to visit us from New York. I got to hold her teeny baby which made my baby look like babyzilla (Where did my teeny bubs go?!). We had a little mini reunion on Sunday at Cracker Barrel. Between all the adults and kids and babies, there were 15 of us total for Cracker Barrel to squeeze into their dining room. At lunch time. On a Sunday afternoon. And between that and the inevitable spilt drink or two from the kiddy table, I'm sure they looked forward to us stuffing our faces and shuffling out the door. But during our time there, we had great conversation about things I don't remember because my child was being a wild tazmanian devil trying to pull everything off the table. And I was nodding and saying, "yeah...uh huh...oh...really?" but had no clue what they were saying because instead my ears were full of the melodramatic screams resulting from taking said items away from said child. By the way, if you want to know what to get Corbin for Christmas, make it drinking glasses. The boy does not hold his own bottle yet but will turn a glass up lickity split and dump ice all over his face!  It's hilarious.
 
Also this weekend, I made some squash for Corbin. FYI, one squash makes 18 jars of baby food. The boy will be pooping orange for the next two weeks. Thankfully, he loves squash. I mean, really loves it. He bangs the table and screams for more between bites. Then, when he finally gets a mouthful, smiles and squeals with joy. I do the same thing while waiting for more salad and breadsticks at Olive Garden, so I understand. Go ahead and picture it. Funny? And we're moving on...

Squash!

Also in my household, it's been sick-pet-week. My yorkie, Sammy, has been yipping in pain whenever you touch his sides. So, I did what any responsible pet owner would do and wisked him to the vet... only to have the vet tell me he didn't know what was wrong and that I should take him home and monitor him for the next few days.

And this guy makes double what teachers make.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Smith. I don't know why Jim Bob is failing all subjects. Maybe you should just keep him home to watch and see if he spontaneously learns to read in the next few days. Mmmk - that'll be $45."

Sammy trying to squish on the glider with us.

So then two of my cats managed to get sick with a cold, which Google had me convinced was actually some sort of deadly disease. For a minute, I lost half my brain and considered taking them to the vet, but ultimately decided to take his previous advice and just wait it out. I found it quite humorous that my female cat was up running around and carrying on with business as usual, but my male cat was slumping around the house like he was just hit by a bus. Typical man.

But after two or three days of this slumping, I started getting worried because he wasn't eating or drinking much. So off I went to Walmart to buy some pedialyte to choke down him. While there, I found a photo album to put 160 of my 500 recent pictures of Corbin in, a teething toy for Lil Guy, and some delicious lollipops for dear husband and me. At check out, the cashier smiled and said, "Aw, you have a sick lil one at home, huh?"

$20

 For those who personally know me, you might remember the embarrassment of me having to buy incontinence pads for my leg-hiking-dog's belly bands, and having to stare the cashier in the wondering eye and explain, "No, I did not mean to buy Always pads. Yes, I realize those are incontinence pads. No, they're not for me. They're for my dog. Yes, my dog. He wears a diaper because he pees everywhere. Thank you, have a nice day," every stinkin' time I checked out. If you do, you'll understand why the next thing out of my mouth was not, "No, this is for my cat."

Instead, I just smiled and asked, "Yeah, how'd you know?" She smiled back and said, "Poor guy. Well I hope he feels better."

And I felt no shame.

So in between all that, I ordered my handsome boy some wintry clothes. In size 9 months.  *sniff sniff tear*

Love me some Carter's

Moved the bookcase that was blocking my winter closet just in time for 80 degree temps to return...

Preggo sweater from last year.  You gotta do what you gotta do.

 Decorated my house for fall...

And bought Corbin this adorable hat. I could smother him in chocolate and eat him up!!!

Nom Nom Baby Yumminess!

Ok. Blog overload. My hand is going numb, as is your brain I assume. So until next time...