le cinquième CATURDAY

Since I know you’re only friends with me for my cat, you get two cat posts in a row! You lucky ducks. And lucky Cambria. She basks in the fame. In fact, I think it’s getting to her head a little bit. A few posts on a blog, and BOOM, she thinks she’s the Queen of England. Or at least the Queen of the Apartment. (You know, like that new Bruno Mars/Eminem song, “Had a dream I was king queen, I woke up, still king queen.” No? Not feeling it? Okay. I’ll move on.) Now she thinks she can sit wherever she likes. Like on the bath mat when I’m about to shower…

"Dis texture is pleasing to meh. Ai shall stay."

Or on the bed when I’m trying to make it…

This picture is clearly post-make, but you can still see how in the way she was. Poor throw pillows and stuffed alligator, there was no room for them because someone was in the way...

but she cares not. She licks her paw in your general direction, you son of a silly person. Now go away, or she shall taunt you a second time.

Or on the bag that she pulled out of the plastic bag sleeve, out of the kitchen, and onto her favorite bit of carpet…

"Tha's right. Ima queen. Ai do what Ai wants."

Please ignore my piles of books in the background. I've run out of shelf space, and now they live in stacks on the floor. I suppose it's time to invest in another shelf.

Why do I put up with such ridiculous behavior, you ask? Because she’s a cat and her brain isn’t very large, that’s why. And because at the end of the day, she does stuff like this with me…

She lies on my lap and purrs happily while I read. (Yes, I’m using a neck pillow. They’re crazy comfortable. Don’t judge me.) And she purrs and meows whenever I get home like she’s missed me so much she couldn’t stand it. And she keeps my feet warm at night. And she wakes us up in the mornings with a snuggle, like she missed us all night and is excited we’re awake again. And she does funny things like try to catch raindrops as they fall down the window. And one time when I cried, she licked away my tears. It was probably just because they were salty, but I’m going to pretend it’s because she knew and cared that I was upset.

So yeah, my cat is a total goober. But I wouldn’t change her for anything.

(Oh no. That got unexpectedly sentimental and gooey, which can only mean that this week is going to get worse very quickly. I apologize in advance for any hormonal and overly emotional outpourings that happen over the course of the next several days. It’s not my fault, and I don’t like it either. I promise to return to normal as soon as I can stuff the hormone monster back into her closet, which could take a while. That joker is feisty.)

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“Babies Are Almost As Cute as Cats.”

Yes, my husband really said that.

Tyler, while holding a cat and looking at a baby: “Amanda, which do you think is cuter, babies or cats?”

A: “Babies. Duh.”

T: “I agree. Mostly. I mean, babies are almost as cute as cats. Wait. Reverse that.”

The margin is slim. And it may depend on the baby, and the cat. And the day. Don’t get me wrong. I love babies. But they cry and poop. Cats poop too, but you don’t have to clean it up nearly as often, and they potty-train faster. (I can totally hear my mother-in-law saying, “uncouth,” to herself right now. Sorry, mom! 🙂 ) They both spit up, so they’re even there. And most babies aren’t really that cute at first, but kittens are instantly cute.

What? Don’t act like you’re offended. You know I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking. Newborns and little old men look exactly alike. Plus I already said that babies win, so I am exempt from your rage.

I’ll show you what I mean. I think it’s time for a friendly little game of

Baby vs. Cat.

Round 1:

Baby:

Josiah, my favorite mini-human, is getting so big! He now weights more than Cambria, my favorite non-person. And he still smells exactly like a baby should:)

Cat: And the winner is… Baby! But it’s close. I mean, look at that little paw, and that little nose. You know you debated for a second.

Round 2:

Baby:Cat:

Readers, meet Max, Josiah and Co.'s pet fat cat, and Tyler's second favorite cat in the world. He is fat, and fluffy, and he thinks he rules the world.

And the winner is…Cat! Because he is doing a trick! And that tail is so fluffy! I kid, I kid! The baby still wins. I mean seriously, look at those lips! *melt*

Round 3:

Baby:

 Cat:

And the winner is…Tyler! Seriously, could that man be any cuter? He likes cats and babies??! Where do I sign up?

(Dear Tyler,

I apologize in advance for calling you cute. Please forgive me. I will make dinner tonight to make up for it. And I’ll let you watch football without any girly comments about the color or style of the uniforms.

Love, Wife.)

So babies win. Or at least Josiah wins, always. Cambria is trying to say that since we treat her like our baby she technically wins because she fits both categories. Nice try, fur ball. You’ll have to excuse her whinyness. She’s an only child, and doesn’t get many opportunities to share or socialize with other kids, so she’s a little selfish sometimes.

ETA: My father made a very valid point when I spoke with him this afternoon. We agreed that cats are cuter for the first month, and then babies win for the rest of their lives. Or at least until they reach the pimply teenage stage, and then cats win again.  And that Tyler only wins if you are me or his mother.

In Which I Fail At Adulthood And Write This Blog Instead.

I am reverting right now and acting like a total college student, which is to say that I have about 10,000 things to do today, you know, boring stuff like shower/pay bills/work/clean my kitchen/write something with real meaning, but instead I’m surfing Facebook and taking pictures of the cat while she plays with my shoes. Consider me writing this blog the official equivalent of skipping class. Ooops! Adulthood fail.

Since I am failing so magnificently, I might as well tell you what’s on my mind…

1: I really need to re-color my hair. The red of summer has turned into a rather streaky version of dirty blond, and it needs to go away. I want to go a darker brunette with some black, Tyler thinks I should do red again. It’s a stalemate. What are your opinions? I’ll do anything but straight-up blond or an un-natural color, like green. Help! I am truly, sincerely asking for opinions. I’m so indecisive.

2: I still have not seen The Help, but I really want to . The only problem is, Tyler has zero interest in seeing it, and all my friends I have asked have seen it already. Even my mom has seen it. I reeeeeally want to know what all the fuss is about! Who will save me from my pop culture crisis??! This is my overly dramatic way of saying if we live in the same town and you have either not seen The Help or wouldn’t mind seeing it again, please contact me ASAP. I will even buy you popcorn in reward for your charity toward a poor, socially awkward girl like me who has no one to got o the movies with.

3: Our second week of small groups last night was a success! We have an interesting mix of people- young marrieds, engaged, single, parents, soon-to-be parents-but we seem to blend really well. Our last small group this past spring was such an amazing experience- we truly met some of our best friends through it- that I was a little worried: would I ever be able to love another small group as much? My fears were misplaced. These people are awesome! I love the candor and openness everyone shares with. We’re going through the book Chazown (pronounced something like khaw-zone. Kind of like calzone without the l.) by Craig Groeschel, which is all about finding God’s vision for your life. I had gone through it quickly a few months ago as part of my church internship, but I’m excited to go through it more slowly and along side others. Tyler and I have already had some great conversations because of it.

I’ve never been one of those people who makes a vision statement for my life or who has had an over-arching goal in mind. I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. If I had to boil it all down to defined goals, I’d say my goals are to love God, show His love to people, and be a good wife and mother. I think those are great goals but there are a plethora of way to achieve them, and I’ve quickly realized that I need focus. Last night, one of the things we talked about was how having the focus of a clear-cut chazown would simplify making decisions. If I already know that God’s will is for me to carry out this vision, to asses a choice, all I need to do is decide if it fits with-in my life’s mission. No? Then we move on. Yes? Then we pray about it. That’s so much simpler than the agonizing I’ve done in the past! And simplifying life, living with purposeful focus, would undoubtedly lead to increased peace and contentment, not to mention confidence.

One of the passages from the reading that stuck with me this week is this:

“Before God starts something, He is certain of the outcome. And God’s map of history includes a unique plan for your life. (Psalm 139:13-16)…God created you with a divine undertaking in mind. Before you were born, God knew you. And knew what He wanted your life to be like. That’s why God calls us to live on purpose, keeping the end in view. And what’s more, He invites us to seek Him in order to learn what His perfect plan is for our lives. Then, with that plan in mind, we can reach His our our greatest dreams. Anything less in a mistake, a lie, and a ripoff. ” -page 7 (emphasis mine)

I’m not willing to settle for a mediocre life. My Father created the universe, why should I ever settle for a lie, or even worse, boring?! I’m excited to see what the coming weeks hold. This small group is sure to be an adventure!

4: Speaking of boring, I have realized that I must be the most boring person to follow on instagram or twitter. All I ever post are pictures of my cat, books, and the occasional oddball like this:

This is my Chazown reading buddy, Eddie the Book Monster

5: I’m pretty excited for this weekend! We’re taking a mini vacay to San Diego! We’ll be traveling down Sunday after church and staying all day Monday. The high is supposed to be 73 while we’re there, and, obviously, there will be beach. Color me excited!

6: Also, the Fair started this week. My friend Emily is a missionary here in town with an orginization called Child Evangelism Fellowship. Every year, they set up a booth where kids can play games and hear a story about Jesus, and every year children give their hearts to Him. Please pray with me for Emily and all her volunteers! The days can be very long and hot, but the work is so worth it!

7: And finally, for those of you who have stuck with me this long, I present you with this gift:

An early Caturday picture of a very sleepy Cambria, as a reward for your patience with this ironically un-focused post.

And now, I really do have to go shower and be a responsible adult. A girl can only use dry shampoo so many days in a row before it becomes socially unacceptable, and smelly. Wish me luck!

Hooray for Caturday!

I love Caturday. It gives me an excuse to talk about (and take excessive amounts of pictures of) my favorite person cat. In case you haven’t noticed yet, I sometimes forget Cambria isn’t human.

I’m so familiar with all her little sounds and expressions; she’s a very good communicator. There’s the “I want more food” meow, a purr that says, “I’m lonely,” and a certain little yip that says, “I hate it when you leave me home alone all day. Now rub my belly and tell me I’m cute.”

We had our first small group meeting this week, and during the ice-breaker I had to name one of my embarrassing habits. As I thought about it, I realized that my most embarrassing habit is not one of my many ODC-induced oddities, like always counting the walls and  ceiling tiles wherever I am, but talking about my cat like she’s human. And also talking to my cat like she’s human. It’s pretty bad. For example, I shared this little exchange went down when I had been working at my book store for about three months…

Me: “…and when I got home, she had knocked over the trash can and there was garbage all over the kitchen and living room. I was livid!”

Boss Man: “That’s crazy. Who was watching her.”

Me: “No one. I left her home alone.”

Boss Man: “Home alone?! How old is she?”

Me: “Two, almost three.”

Boss Man: “You left a two year old home alone?!! Who does that?!”

Me: *light bulb clicks on over my head*: “Um, Bud, she’s a cat.”

Boss Man: “Oh. I thought you had a daughter.”

Me: “No, not that I know of. Cambria is a Siamese cat.”

Boss Man: “But I really thought you had a kid!

Me: “Um. No.”

Boss Man: “Huh. I always thought Cambria was a strange name for a kid.”

So there you have it. Proof that I will probably be crazy cat lady in T minus twenty years and counting. Now if you’ll excuse me, my furry mini-human cat is demanding attention. I just got the “I was playing and I spilled all my water on the floor but now I’m thirst. Halp!” leg-brush-and-loud-meeeh-sound combo. Motherhood Duty calls.