Working from home with small animals is a lot like having toddlers: they always want something. They don’t know how to leave you alone (not that they’re supposed to). True, you could go to another room and lock them out, only to feel like a horrible person as you listen to cries that sound like, “Mommy, why do you hate me?”
But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Meet the two cutest distractions in the entire world, Catniss Everclean…
I remember the first time I saw the apartment I now call home. I was in Ohio for several months taking care of my Dad, and left full trust with Josh to pick the right place and move in. When I finally saw it in person, I thought, This is great, but it’s missing two things to make it perfect: bookshelves and kittens.
Josh was “meh” about the bookshelves, but totally on board with the kittens. We adopted them from a local shelter a few days before Christmas, then only 8 weeks and 12 weeks old. They have been nothing but adorable trouble ever since: getting into things (even after kitten-proofing the apartment), jumping onto forbidden surfaces like tables (well, one of them could jump, the other would try and hilariously fail), not understanding the concept of a litterbox (that, thankfully, has been solved).
But they are more than just fuzzy fixtures in our home. As my anxiety comes and goes and depression waxes and wanes, these critters have been the best and most effective form of therapy. They give me more of a reason to get up in the morning, and not just because they’re hungry: they figured out how to open the bedroom door and will gently chew my ears to wake me up. We snuggle for a few minutes before breakfast and morning coffee and more cuddles.
Then, it’s writing time. Most of the afternoon, really, is writing time, often with one of these furballs in my lap:
Sometimes they make typing difficult:
And the breaks in which I attempt household chores next to impossible:
But sometimes they understand that Mommy has things to do, and reluctantly accept it by napping on the floor next to my writing chair.
Never before have I had stronger justification for taking my work to Starbucks for distraction-free writing.
“Nope, I has claimed it.”
Except I don’t think I’ll use that excuse often, because these fluffies will only be kittens once, and have already doubled in weight during the last month (Catniss is now THREE pounds, and Zoey FOUR pounds, those little chunkers).
It might take me twice as long to finish my next novel with these lovable distractions, but these girls (collectively called The Kitten Littles) are the closest I expect to get to motherhood, and I’m enjoying every moment.