Category Archives: Cats

You’ll Think This Post Is About Kittens (But It’s Not)

I spent the morning playing with our kitten, Fitz.

Fitz BnW small

He is darling, and hilarious, and the most loving little kitten we’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing…but that’s not what this post is about.

As I waggled his chicken toy at him, and giggled like a maniac as he pounced, a conversation I had with a friend recently popped into my brain. I’m not sure what caused it–the conversation had nothing to do with kittens–and yet, I heard her voice in my head, clear as a bell.

“You deserve to have whatever you want. Don’t let anyone else influence you
to the point that you give up on your dream.”

I watched Fitz wiggling his bum, preparing for another pounce, and let those words reverberate around in my brain. You know, that friend of mine makes a really valid point. We live in a society where it’s as easy as a few key strikes to shout your opinion from the social media rooftops. There are some topics of conversation that bring out the opinions quicker than a horse at a hay party—like politics, religion, sporting teams, and parenting.

Who knew adoption was on that list?

We’ve heard a plethora of comments from strangers, acquaintances, and friends alike when they learn of our choice to adopt. Most of them are normal questions filled with curiosity about the process–all valid and easily answered. Others are honest questions that people don’t realize can have a touch of ‘judgey’ to them — “Oh, well, didn’t you look into In-Vitro?” (Yes.) And “Oh, I’ve heard that’s expensive. On your salary?” (Yes.)  And “You should adopt from Africa/Germany/Haiti. They have a lot of kids that need homes.” (So does America.)

But the judgement doesn’t stop there. Nay. I have MANY mommy friends who have already started preparing me for the stern faces I will get when I ultimately choose formula over breastfeeding (sort of a necessity since, you know, adopting), public school over home school (I have to work, sadly), and Huggies over cloth diapers (because poo is gross.)

I’ve been so desperate to pledge the Sorority of Mothers that this side of the sisterhood wasn’t something I was prepared for. I always thought of it as a large group of strong, independent, thoughtful women who supported each other in this quest of raising kids to be prosperous, helpful, kind adults.

As it turns out, apparently moms are more interested in policing your child’s grooming habits, party etiquette, and food choices than being all “Kumbaya” about parenting.

judgey mom

Since I’m already getting hit with that judgement, and I’m still only pledging said sorority, it makes me wonder just how much worse it can get. And since I’m a newbie, I tend to want to take everything a Mom shares with me about her journey straight to heart.

Ultimately, here are the bullet points I want people to know:
We chose private domestic adoption. It wasn’t something we decided to do on a whim; we researched and discussed and soul-searched, and it was the best fit for our family.
We chose to pursue adopting an infant. Yes, I know they cry a lot, and I won’t sleep at all, and I’ll pray for the days when they’re old enough to tell me they want juice rather than just raising their voices to the sky in the hopes that I will understand that WAAAAAAAAAAAAAIL means JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUICE. But I want a baby. I want to experience it ALL. And why shouldn’t I get what I want just because my body won’t make a baby on its own?
We did NOT choose to be infertile. So no amount of offering to pray for us, or asking us about our sex life, or questioning our choice of adoption over fertility treatments isn’t going to change the fact that we probably can’t get pregnant. At least without a doctor’s help. And even with that help, we have less than a 30% chance of conceiving.

So when my very wise friend made her very valid point the other day, while she was talking about our decision to adopt an infant, it could really be applied to all facets of parenthood. Hell–it SHOULD be applied to all facets of LIFE.

If you DREAM of getting rid of all your worldly possessions in trade for an RV so you can travel the country like gypsies—don’t let your paranoid and clingy best friend change your mind.

If you DREAM of quitting your day job so you can open a tiny pizzeria—don’t let something as trivial as ‘expectations’ change your mind.

If you DREAM of being a mother to a squalling, incontinent, impossible-to-please tiny human being—don’t let anyone else’s opinion about children change your mind!

After all, the other piece of advice this wise friend gave me? “You deserve to be just as miserable and exhausted as every other new mom in the world.” And she’s right. I totally do.

I Know, I Know. I’ve Been Gone For Two Whole Weeks…

…And I know your minds are all in a whirlwind trying to figure out where in the world I’ve been. So I’m here to dispel any rumors that have started on the internets regarding my whereabouts.

I did not, in fact, pack up my bags and my husband and take a whirlwind tour of New York’s version of ComicCon.

I did not go to space camp, or take a month-long sabbatical to Italy to learn how to make the perfect bolognese sauce, or visit the Doctor Who museum in Cardiff.

Nay. For the past two weeks, I spent my time with my toes in the sand of a very private, very beautiful island with my new pretend celebrity boyfriend, Nathan Fillion.

Nathan 1

That would be a great excuse to explain my fourteen-day absence, right??


Ok, fine. I did NOT spend the last fortnight letting Captain Mal rub sunscreen on my knees. I did, however, spend it redecorating my house.


Not nearly as stimulating as a moonlit stroll on the beach with Captain Hammer, but I still rather enjoyed the process. (At least the part that didn’t involve me driving around the greater Charleston area looking for the perfect rug for the space…which wound up being the very first one I saw at Target.)

We also converted our craft/catchall/home gym room into a guest room…which started with a 2-day process of refinishing a thrift store headboard…


…and ended with a sunshine-yellow comforter…


…and the perfect accessories…


Making the decision to redecorate was an easy one–particularly when the last remaining furniture any guest could sleep on finally fell apart. We love entertaining, and we love having visitors, but people are less likely to stay the night if they have to sleep in the bathtub. So…we put our heads together and came up with a layout that we love, that is functional, but that is also beautiful. And I’m a happy…if tired…girl.

We celebrated by inviting some of our favorite people to spend the night…


…and while Tina and Charlene both approve of the improvements, there’s really only one opinion that matters most. That of our resident felines.



I think we did ok.

Best Friends “Furever”

When I’m blue, there are three things that cheer me up almost instantly. One–chocolate. Two–wine. And three–my cat, Scooter. Here’s why.

(If you can’t see the video, copy and paste the following code into your browser:–J-rUUA)

It’s Not My Fault…

…that I haven’t written a blog since the uber-depressing one that I wrote a few days ago from the corner of Despair Drive and Sad Face Alley. (You think that’d be a perfect intersection for a cupcake shop, but I couldn’t find one.)

Seriously. You can’t be mad at me. Here are three legitimate reasons why blogging simply cannot be accomplished today.



If you can’t see the video, copy and paste the following URL into your browser:

Abby Writes A Mommy (ish) Blog

I read a lot of blogs. I laugh, and learn, with Alex from Late Enough. I revel in the beauty of Simone’s words on Greatfun4kids. I’m convinced that Ryan, author of The Woven Moments, is my long lost twin, or at least that we’re destined to be best friends. I have something in common with each of these amazing women–we write blogs.

But they have something in common that I don’t share.

They are Mommies.

I actually read a lot of “Mommy Blogs.” I cheer with them at their children’s successes, empathize with them their parenting struggles, and make ooey-gooey-cuteness noises at the adorable pictures of their offspring that grace the pages of their blogs.

Mommyhood is a sorority I’m desperate to pledge. I dream of my future children, my arms ache to hold them, I even write them letters.

But in a very huge way, even without children, I am a Mommy. I have four inexcusably charming kitty cats who are, in their very own way, my four-legged children. They make me laugh, they make me cry, and although I’m not 100% sure what it feels like to play Chase and Pounce and Catnip Toy, I’m pretty certain I can guess.

So today is a blog for me–a Mommy with furry children. I can’t barrage you with photos of my doe-eyed, tow-haired children. But I CAN barrage you with photos of my cats!!!

Things I Find Ridiculously Adorable About My Fur-Kids:
Toe Floof (ie: the fur that grows out from between their toesies)
Pink noses. (Or brown or black or whatever color they are. Noses are cute.)
They way they sleep all smooshed up.
Brotherly snuggle time. Awww.

How FREAKING ADORABLE they are as kittens. Seriously. HOW CUTE IS THAT?
That “Hey Ma, whatcha doin? Huh? Huh?” look of utter curiosity.
Similarly, that “I’m-super-excited-about-this-game” face they make when they’re wound up and rambunctious.
Their creativity when it comes to game play is endless.
And their ferocity and man-cat-ness  is blatantly obvious.
I could go on and on for hours. Seriously. I have over a bazillion pictures, and more than half of them are of my cats.
But my favorite “cute” thing about them? The slurpy noises they make when they eat.

So I may not change dirty diapers. I may not worry how my actions will irrevocably damage or enlighten them. I don’t have to fear that society will ruin their innocence or mar their sense of well-being.

But I do change litter boxes. And I love each of them with more of my heart than I ever thought I could give. They keep me company, they annoy the bejesus out of me when they’re hungry, they keep me on a schedule, and they wake me up in the wee hours of the morning. They love me unconditionally, they make me laugh on a daily basis, and they cheer me up when I’m sad about not having furless babies.

So I guess, technically, that makes AbbyGabs a Mommy Blog afterall…right?