Sleep would be nice...

Yesterday my husband and children did yard work.  As a result, the cats went... elsewhere.  Elsewhere was somewhere unknown to us all.  In fact, they didn't come in until I was going to bed.  I had become rather worried that I would have no cats sleeping with me at all.  However, first Star, then the 15 pound Kitten, then Zaphoid came in to share the bed with us.  I'm afraid that sleep still eluded me and made getting to church... difficult.

Right now, I have Kitten laying on my lap, sleeping & purring.  Normally this job is taken up by Star.  I'm not sure why Kitten chose this particular place to sleep.  Eventually he Will Have To Move™.  Let's face it, 15 pounds of cat on your thighs for any length of time just doesn't do.  ::shakes head::   Now I just wonder where Thomas has been keeping himself.

Oberon or Kitten??

While we've been calling the 15 pound, 3 year old 'kitten' Oberon, he still hasn't really responded to it.  I was beginning to think that he was deaf.  Seriously, no response from this cat no matter what you called him.  Not on Mommy Brown's Table™, not trying to get him to come in, not trying to get him to get out of the sink so you can wash your hands, and so on and so on and, well you see the dilemma.  Oddly enough, for the last few nights I've been able to get him to come dashing in (there being no other way to get inside other than using his Amazing SuperSonic Powers™) by calling "Kitten!  Come on in Kitten!" and such.  ::shakes head::  After three years, we may have finally hit on a name he will respond to, rather than being the Cat with the Identity Crisis™.

He has also taken to sleeping with my husband.  Very sweetly.  Enough so that you tend to look around for a camera.  Yes, Kodak moments.  ::suppresses laughter::  Mind you, while Kitten is doing this, my husband is petting him and saying things like, "I don't want cats." "I don't like cats." "You are nuisance." "I don't like you much, I don't know why you're here." and "You know I never wanted any cats at all." (I had five cats when we got married, he had one).  But my husband sounds just like my Daddy used to sound.  He would be all grumpy sounding, going on about how the cats weren't worth feeding, they never did any work around the house, they couldn't fetch slippers etc... but then you'd catch him petting the cats saying, "You know I don' t like you very much, right?"  And the cats keep on purring.

.

I was going to brush my teeth...

... but there was a cat in the sink.  Yes, it's true.  The Kitten... aka Oberon... aka the Cat With the Identity Crisis... has taken to napping in the sink.  The master bath sink, (I attribute this to the fact that the kids keep the hall bathroom door Closed At All Times™... for which reason I inspect it at least once a week).  I doubt that running water on him would work, but fortunately I use a sonic toothbrush... muahahahahahahaha!  I just turned it on before applying the toothpaste and he was out of the sink like SuperCat in search of Catnip!

The weekend was hormone filled.  We had Jennifer² in the house (Jen's stepsister is also named Jennifer). and then Jen's bff stayed Saturday night.  Amazingly enough some work on Jennifer's room actually got done.  As for me, I did a gazillion loads of laundry. ... Okay, it wasn't actually a gazillion... it was about 10... and included virtually every towel in the house save the three that my husband and I have managed to hold on to with a death grip in our bathroom.  IOW about 7-8 towels...  at least...  not counting the beach towels.

The problem was that I kept going up and down her very very very (did I mention very?) steep stairs to a) get more laundry... like the humongous pile shoved under her bed  (Oh we got everything out from under the bed!).  Now this would have been bad enough, but I've been having osteopods (my nickname for them... trust me, most of them come from pods... no, really!) tell me since 1979 that Kats Should NOT Do Stairs™.  ::sigh::  Oh well.

At any rate, this is to explain where I have been... or not been... as the case may be.  But all in all, Jennifer's room is the cleanest it's been since she's been up there... and she only has three more boxes (or maybe its' four?  ::shrug::) to go!  Whoot!!

In other news, Corwyn and I went and got him bamboo sheets.  I highly recommend them.  He now has the softest sheets in the house.  I wish I could have a couple of sets for everyone in the house.  Bamboo is a sustainable material and seriously rocks.  Especially for folx with sensory issues like those in my family.  Mmmmmmmmmm... bamboo clothes...mmmmmmmm.  ::wipes drool from face::  Where was I?  Oh yeah, he wasn't feeling too well, headaches and the stress rash.  There but for my father's genes go I.  But there is always hope.... and cat piles... and emo kitties hiding in boxes... on top of clean clothes no less.  ::rolls eyes::

Inward & Outward, Upward & Onward!

Okay, another four cat night.  This morning I woke up because Star began climbing up Mt. Mommy Knee™.  Now this would have been okay, except for one thing.  Star's claws haven't been trimmed in far too long.  Ergo, when that first paw tentatively hit my knee it was not a soft, gentle paw.  Nay, brothern and sistern, it was a veritable stiletto.  A rapier piercing my knee.  There was only one thing to do in such a situation.

Star was scooped up as quickly as possible.  Ninja Kitties don't like this.  But it had to be done.  Whilst holding the squirming eight-armed demon, I managed to get the clippers from my bedside table.  My husband woke up and realized immediately what was going on.  I asked for help and he provided the demon-holding necessary for me to begin clipping Star's scimitars.  I indicated at one point that grabbing him by the fur between his shoulder blades would be helpful (just as a mother cat does, this doesn't work on all cats).  I finished and then made Star stay while I got out treats.  Lots of treats.  Many many many (make that many) treats.  Which no one else got to have.

I did this to help him remember that it's okay to get your claws clipped and that mom's bed is not a dangerous place.  Star is not only a Ninja Cat but he's still a wee bit skittish.  Remember that he was rescued at four weeks old having been abandoned.  You have to be extra careful with him.  Uhoh!  Sound from the kitchen.  I'd better see what they're up to now!  Oberon has taken to getting up on the kitchen table.  Teenagers.  The Teenage Mutant Ninja Kitty Horde is well named!!

Squeaky Wheel??

I got up this morning and went about my usual routine.  When I went into the kitchen there was a... unusual noise.

It was not a mouse.
It was not a bird.
But in my house,
A squeak was heard!

::shakes head::  Oberon evidently needs throat drops or perhaps some hot tea.  You guessed it.  He was the source of the squeaking!!