Furbabies Bringin’ Down da House

I forgot how destructive babies can be. It has been a year since I had kittens this age, and I thought I missed it. Turns out, the best part of the babies is when they’re sleeping. On top is Boggart, under him is Elsa, to the right is Romeo, and the black sweetie is Spock.

Such angelic faces...

Don’t get me wrong! They are adorable and I’m dyin’ uv teh kyoot an’ all, but dannnng, those little claws are sharp. Their brakes are useless most of the time, unless they happen to be stopping on bare skin. Then they work just fine. My circulation seems to be pretty good, too, judging by the heights the blood manages to reach while exiting my punctured arteries.

The destruction is hard to see. You must remember that God did not give me the gift of OCD, so that I might be a good housekeeper. He gave me the gift of MEH instead, and He was quite generous. My mother probably has a rash from all the rolling over in her grave and such, but that’s the way it is. I live a terribly cluttered life. Trust me, tho, the kittens have taken that to a whole new level, even to the point of making me clean up a little just to get around. It is a sad thing to clean up just so I can get to what needs cleaning up, no? On the bright side, as a woman of leisure, I am 100% successful. And my grass is cut, which is a bonus point on the scorecard. OH! I can see my stovetop, too! Maybe there’s hope yet.

Meanwhile, not all of their energy has been destructive. They’ve found things long lost and batted them from under furniture, and reminded me that I’m not THAT horrible as a parent. Boggart took 5 days to go from Wild Mass of Teeth and Claws to arching his neck for me to scratch it. I’d take all the credit, but I think watching his siblings enjoy being petted and listening to them play without him had a little to do with it. He went nuts in his crate the night I let him out. I told him he was staying in there until he let me touch him and love on him. I sat down in front of the crate and opened the door, and he came over and let me rub his cheeks and back. I had to keep my promise, doncha know. That was Tuesday night. This morning I woke up to a tiny heater snuggled up behind my knees. He has snuggled next to me ever since.

The most frustrating thing they’ve brought is, well, lookit. Click to biggify.

That’s Romeo. That’s also his spot. The only way I can keep him off it is to hold him until he falls asleep in my arms – he’s a squirmy boy when he wants to be. I can type one-handed, though, so I suppose holding him is a LITTLE better. If you can see the screen shot, you’ll notice that Romeo is really keeping me off Facebook. Kinda hard to be mad at that.

Progress and encouragement come in feisty little unexpected packages sometimes.

Happy untagged Love Thursday, y’all.

Send bandaids.