Cat Lingo

               That term could mean a number of things.  Cat lingo could be the words we use to communicate with our cats…but that’s laughable - what cat would listen to a human?  Cat lingo could be the words we humans use to describe our cats, and that is what I intended to write about today.  But then I started thinking about their very own cat words that they think in their furry little heads when encountering the world, and that seemed too interesting to pass up.

               I have a pair of unrelated black and whites who love each other very much, but they couldn’t be more different.  Both are about a year old so they still romp and play like kittens from time to time.  Roger has long luxurious fur with plenty of pristine white fluff for showing off.  He is intelligent and gorgeous, and brags about it constantly.  My kids call him a “Diva” and the term fits.  Lyra, on the other hand, is a runt.  She is small, squishy and has the brain to match.

               Roger’s cat vocabulary is full of demands.  “You must offer me a treat promptly,” and “This would not be a good time to pet me.  You may adore me from afar for now.”  At mealtime he bounces around the kitchen, as if an alarm has gone off, to scream his preference to be fed before all others. 

After play time outside he comes prancing through the cat door and announces, “Your day is about to get better, because I am here now!”  When Roger gets bored he will make demands for attention, and if ignored, will delicately knock our favorite things off of high surfaces, one at a time.

               Lyra’s repertoire of cat words is more limited.  Her utterances are mostly one and two word phrases.  “Wow,” she mutters as she watches water drip down the door of the dishwasher (her absolute favorite activity).  “What’s that?” she stares as the car tires slowly roll past her on the driveway.  This little girl spent her first few days as an outside cat stranded at the top of every tree in the vicinity – happy to climb up, but clueless about getting down.  The fact that she no longer climbs trees at least proves that she is capable of learning, eventually.  At mealtime Lyra comes to the kitchen along with the other animals, but doesn’t make the connection to eating.  She just looks around and says, “Huh?”  Once the bowls are filled and the other pets are gobbling up their meals, I show her the bowl, but she still doesn’t realize that she has to meet the bowl in order to eat the food.  I almost always have to pick her up and position her face over the bowl.

               We are quite happy to be approaching the first anniversary of our adoption of these animals.  There was a time soon after bringing them home from the shelter that we feared Lyra would quickly meet an unpleasant end.  Luckily her Diva brother is very smart and has taken her under his paw.  The two cats entangle into a dog-pile and groom each other from head to tail on a daily basis.  I would love to hear him coaching her through the hazards of the outside world, as well as the conversations these two felines have at the end of the day!

               

My Reward

               My Old Yeller would not listen to reason this frosty morning.  She shot down every one of my excuses with her hopeful brown eyes.  “Let’s wait.  It’s too cold right now,” I’d say.  To which she would answer with a tail wag and a glance toward her collar.

               She sat at my feet while I was at the computer and then followed me upstairs to point out that my running shoes were still in the closet.  “Dude, the ground is still frozen.  Just think of your paws!” I pleaded with her.  “In a couple of hours the sun will warm everything up and your favorite drinking puddle won’t be covered in ice.”  She would not listen to a single word.  That is…until I grumbled, “Okay, okay…we can go for a walk…”

               At the sound of the W-word she leapt up and squealed a happy yip.  At these moments you would never guess that she is 13 years old.  We geared up, she in her collar and I in my layers and mittens, and headed out into the cold.  Thankfully I had managed to stall her long enough for the sun to peek over the hills and send some warm-ish long shadows onto our path.

    

           Our usual route takes us through the woods behind the school.  She bounded around in pure joy and that was reward enough for me.  But today she gave me a bonus.  I think she wanted to make sure I knew it was the right thing to get outside, because she leaped off the trail to bring my attention to a beautiful sight.  Just a few strides away, and at human eye-level, perched a bold and beautiful pileated woodpecker.  He wasn’t at all intimidated by our close proximity and continued to sit in his sun-spot to peck away at the tall stump.  The sun illuminated his scarlet crown and made the flying wood-chips shimmer like sparks from a sputtering roman candle.  We both stood silently for a few minutes to take in the sight.

               Once we stepped back, puffed out a sigh full of awe and continued our walk up the trail, my beloved pup gave me a shoulder bump and a smile and said, “You’re welcome!”

Toddlers in Tiaras - Teens in Uniforms

               You don’t have to have a toddler and your child doesn’t have to be wearing a tiara for you to become one of those scary “Pageant Parents.”  And the stage upon which your child performs may not be the physical platform with theatre lights and flashing cameras.  Their venue of choice may be a grass field with goal posts, a sparkling frozen rink or a court in a gymnasium .  What defines the “pageant parent” type is the behavior of the parent and their over-involvement in their child’s activity.

               Nobody ever plans to be one of “those” over-the-top rabid parents who have too much of their own personal pride riding on the backs of their children.  It can sneak up on you like weeds in the garden.  You plant a few pretty petunias and before you know it a dense forest of dandelions has taken its place. 

I am not immune, as I had a taste of this myself.  A few years ago I found myself sucked into the local ballet scene.  (Yep, ballet - a word that had not entered my vocabulary before my little girl demanded a tutu.)  It all started out reasonably enough with my learning to weave an adequate ballerina hair-bun and embarrassing my daughter with my lame attempts at pronouncing ballet terms.  Before long I found myself driving 100 miles to buy decent pointe shoes (yes that e really belongs on the end of that word, and apparently everybody who is anybody knows that the local pointe shoes were not good enough).  More and more of my conversations with other ballet moms felt like gossip, centering on the skill of the various teachers and questioning casting decisions of the director.  I even joined the fundraising board and sold my soul to a coupon company.  At the time this all seemed so important.  It wasn’t until my adolescent daughter burned out and quit dancing that I stepped back and realized how unhealthy my increasing involvement had become for both my daughter and myself.

If you find yourself more and more consumed with the status of your child’s chosen activity, maybe it is time to stand in front of a mirror and reflect upon your involvement.

1.       Do you spend more of your time and emotional energy on your child’s activity than the kid actually does?

2.      Have you raised a big stink or even considered taking some kind of official action against a coach or official because you didn’t agree with a decision?

3.      Has your child suffered a consequence, either from the coach or teammates, based on your actions/reactions?

4.      Are you finding more and more charred bridges in your wake as you sacrifice relationships of your own and your child’s, while pursuing the seemingly all-important goals you think your child deserves?

5.      Do you spend half the time on your own hobbies and interests as you do your child’s?

If any of these scenarios make you with squirm with the ugly discomfort of recognition, it may be a good time for you to take a step back.  Better yet, take two big steps back and let your child grow up and learn to advocate for him or herself.  Nobody likes a Parent-zilla, not even the child.  It’s time for you to take up knitting…or some other hobby that brings personal satisfaction – take pride and joy in your own activities.  You might be amazed at how well your child does on his/her own.  And they will be proud of you, too.

Abby Normal

           

I’m afraid that there is something wrong with me, because I can honestly say that I have never met someone and thought to myself, “Oh my GAWD, how could she go out of the house with her PORES revealed for the world to SEE??”  The media and countless advertisements tell us that allowing your skin to actually look like human skin with pores should bring shame upon you and make people wince at the sight of your face, or send them running for cover.

            Never mind that the human body is covered with pores that have the very important function of regulating body temperature.  We get hot, our pores allow our skin to sweat, and when the sweat evaporates our bodies are cooled to a healthy and comfortable temperature.  This is a very efficient way to cool off.  But if the cosmetic companies had their way and these imperfections in our skin did NOT exist, then we would either die from heat stroke or have to cool ourselves like the dogs (because they can’t sweat from their pores) and pant with our tongues hanging below our chin to transpire the heat and moisture.  Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs.  But I’m pretty sure people would find stinky-hot dog-breath more offensive than a few tiny-yet-visible openings in the skin on our faces.

            More evidence that I am abnormal is that I think grey hair is beautiful.  Men have always sported the salt-and-pepper look and been praised for it, but women rarely embrace the elegant look of maturity.  At my grocery store there is an entire aisle devoted to coloring products designed hide that beautiful and hard-earned sparkle of grey.  Advertisements scream that in NO WAY whatsoever do we want our hair to give away the age that we ACTUALLY are.  I guess it is practically criminal that my hair reflects how many years I have been alive.  I should be ashamed. 

            But I’m not.

            

Four Easy Tricks to Keep You Smiling Until Spring

               Daylight savings just ended and the sunlight fades before most of us get home from work.  Ug.  Our bodies start craving an old-fashioned hibernation.  We must fight the temptation to hole-up.  Even though there are many reasons to love winter, and I do, many of us suffer in the darkness.  Doctors call this SAD (seasonal affective disorder) and might prescribe light therapy, vitamin D supplements or even Happy Meds.  But I have a much simpler solution:  Before you start looking for a cave to curl up into for the next four months, try these simple ideas to tone-up and flex your happy muscles.

        1.   Spend time with people and laugh.  Really loud and hard.  ‘Til your stomach hurts.  Make up a reason to celebrate and invite your friends to coffee or happy hour.  Maybe one of your friends is having a half-birthday – make him/her wear a tacky crown.  Somebody broke an arm?  Have a cast-signing party with multi-colored sharpies.  In the winter we are drawn to our comfy sofas and fuzzy slippers, but what we really need is to be part of the real world and enjoy the company of others.  (Social Media does NOT count!)

       2.   Make somebody else happy.  Bring flowers or chocolate to a co-worker.  Make cupcakes for a neighbor.  Send a card to a long-lost friend or relative.  Making others happy brings a warm feeling to our innards and we glow, too.

       3.   Crank the tunes!  Loud, happy music is a tonic for the soul.  Whether you prefer oldies that take you down memory lane or the electronic bounce of Top 40, turn it up until the windows shake and sing and dance along.  Blaring music isn’t always possible at home with homework and conversations and all, but as soon as I get into my car I crank my favorite bands and scream until my voice is hoarse.  I can tell you one thing – I always come home smiling.

       4.  Get outside and MOVE!  I don’t care how many layers of clothes you need to pile on to stay warm.  Put on a hat and gloves and go OUT for a walk or a run (leave the treadmill idle – get OUTSIDE).  Let the wind blow in your face while you stride along.  Say hello to every person you pass - and dog, for that matter.  Notice the sway of the trees and the sound of the leaves, gravel or snow crunching beneath your feet.  Breathe in that crisp cold air laced with a hint of chimney smoke, then blow your steaming breath out like a dragon.  Feeling alive is the best way to Feel Alive, so get that body moving and embrace the elements.

Sure, winter can be a nice time to cuddle up to the fireplace and enjoy a quiet book.  Relish those pleasures, too.  Just don’t let that snuggle turn into a weeks-long hibernation or you’re likely to end up a grumpy ol’ bear before spring arrives.