Illiterate Cats

Our home is a full home. We have two dogs, two cats, and a soon-to-be two year-old. Among the clutter and confusion that can occur in any home sporting two working parents and a precocious child, we have our lovely chart of house rules. It used to hang in the center on the first floor, but had to be moved to a space by the fridge to make room for a much needed whiteboard. Either way, its commandments are clear. Be kind. Take turns. Use words, not hands. And you essentially have the idea. There is one major problem with this litany of Thou Shalt's -

Cats don't read.

At least my cats don't. 

Tory, our female, has decided that, after a month of him living with us, she now hates Trey (mostly referred to now as Poor Trey). Trey was adopted when Haephestus (Fezzy), my cat of seven years died due to complications from saddle thrombosis. Like Fezzy, Trey is very laid back, but unlike his predecessor lacks the desire to be the dominant cat. Tory, like some power-crazed despot from unkinder eras has launched herself into a campaign of unlady-like attacks and fur-flecked set-to's.

Poor Trey. And poor darling son, who has been wakened the past two nights by their tussles outside of his room, adjacent to the cats' room. (Yes, the cats have their own room in our house - it's too small for a bedroom, and it gives them a break from my son.) In fact, I hear Tory tuning up right now. Time to dispense some nightly justice in spray bottle form. If that doesn't work, someone may wake up to find themselves the proud owner of a pernicious little tortie.

I think I can

They say it takes 28 days to form a new habit or replace old habits and thoughts.

I've been working on developing new thought patterns for five years, and I'm still not there.

BT (my Bodhi Tree, if you will) would say, and has said, this indicates that I need a clearer picture of what I want to change. BT's mantra over the years has become "When you know what, you'll know how."

I've always found that to be a bit too simplistic for me.

In my case, I think my weird-ass blend of bipolar-ish disorder, ADD, and OCD has an unseemly amount of influence.

Yeah, I fall in the bipolar range. It pisses me off to be "in the spectrum", but that's for another day. My brand of BPD swings between three states: severely pissed off, depressed, and hysterical because I'm despairing and enraged at the same time. Good shit. I'd say that level of unpredictability would make it hard to maintain any attempts at lasting change.

Then, there are all of the external factors. All of us have friends, family, or just random assholes and angels who move through our lives. Sometimes they bring peace; sometimes they leave pieces. (Why does that sound like a greeting card??) At this point, I seem to have averaged about 50/50 on how I have affected others. But, I am a wrecking crew magnet.

If you are a person who attracts destructive forces BT would probably say, "You might want to look at that." No disrespect, BT, but telling me to just look hasn't worked in five years. We may want to look at that.

I Can't Believe I Said That

Liam fell off the chair we have on the front porch for him to sit and wave goodbye to Mamere. He's ok, just a goose-egg and a new found respect for staying off things.

I, on the other hand, I was so startled I turned into my mother circa 1996 - "I have had enough of this shit!"

My son was too far into his Toddler Tears to care, but my husband looked sick. As though I might fully morph into my sixty-odd years-old mother and never come back.

Is it wrong that it gave me ideas about how to scare him next time he doesn't want to get up with our son? Give granny some sugar, baby!


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Step One

The first thing you need when you decide to make any life-altering change is a plan. So, in the words of the person who got me started down this path, "What do you want to change?"

In the past, I've tried making changes that almost always failed. I would start a new fitness regime, only to run out of steam when stress piled up in my life. I would try to change my thought patterns, only to fall off track when I would feel too tired or agitated to focus on change. As for the spiritual side of things, let's just say that God, Allah, Susan - whatever name you want - probably has a back room betting operation on how long it takes for me to go off course again.

Oh, I have plenty of faith. I have plenty of brains and plenty of brawn, too. But I never seem to be able to get all three working at the same time.

Back, then, to the question at hand - what do I want to change? Well, first would have to be my job. I just went back to work, yesterday, after eight weeks of leave, only to find the place as depressing as ever. The job used to be fun, and everyone (ok, almost everyone) walked out laughing and smiling at the end of the day. Now, the fetid piss-stench of soured hope and decaying dreams fills the building.

And as bad as that sounds, I have to confess that complacency has kept me in place. I love the perks of my job, especially the discounts on services like my cell, and I can do the job half-comatose on migraine meds. I can't even say that last part about raising my son.

In conjuction with a job change, there has to be a change in diet and exercise. If I take a position, or secure the loan for my own company, it's going to require more energy than my current point-and-click position. And my son would like a mom with more pep, too.