Pure Imagination

Come with me

And you'll be

In a world of 

Pure Imagination

With each passing day, I grow more and more amazed at the little person gifted to me.  

One of my favorite things to watch my son do is create his own world.  Today, it is talking dinosaurs and invisible flowers (a gift just for me).  He is constantly creating his own games with rules that change.  He is able to take something as simple as a cardboard box and small figures and create a whole world.  

With each generation, it seems that the time for children to BE children gets shorter and shorter.  Whether it is circumstance of life or simply the way of our world, it saddens me.  

As Z gets older, I find the changes bittersweet.  I love watching him develop and grow.  At just over four years old, he can get dressed on his own and has an opinion about everything.  Even with that, he still is little boy in that he lives for his blankie and loves to cuddle.   He gets wound up and runs like a madman...and then curls up to snuggle to sleep.

Right now, I fight to keep his imagination alive.  I nurture the dreams and build the cities.  I enter the world he creates and allow him to build his dream world around us, taking us to magical places with magical people.

And for every day that he builds this world, I will come.  I will build the forts and feed the animals and pretend that we are the wranglers and dinosaurs, cats, turtles, and lobsters.  

Because, at the end of the day, "we are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams."

Don't Speak

I am currently at war.

Every so often, the opposition gets the upper hand.

At the last moment, the champion rallies and is able to push back the onslaught.

So far, there have been no casualties.  No blood has been shed, no collateral damage.

Because this war is contained.  It has not spread, it has not become a plague upon the Earth.

It's a war of words.

And it's a war against myself.

I have always been the nice one.  I generally go along to get along and choose to pick my battles.  Since I don't normally get irritated, those battles are few and far between.

The reality of it is that I spend 80% of my time filtering what I say.  The other 20%, I am speaking to my mother or sharing text messages with bluebelleinbg. Even then, I consider how what I say/text will be taken and sometimes even filter that (because I refuse to hurt those I love).  I would love to say that I don't filter what I write here, but that would be untrue.  I find often myself typing, reading, erasing, and retyping what I am thinking.

This ongoing battle recently came to light when I saw posts from "friends" on Facebook.  I read through Christians spouting hate for what they either don't understand or simply feel they are "above."  I see comments asking for funds to support "causes" that I find completely ridiculous.  My hands itch to type...to respond...to spout my opinion in unlimited characters.

Every time, I either stop or type and then erase.

As I think on it, I realize I have always been this way.  I'm not sure if it is just my nature to work to keep the peace or if I have adapted myself to be that way.  As a leader at The Company, I absolutely CANNOT say what I am always thinking.   To do so would not only be career suicide but could very well end my employment at the same time.  For obvious reasons, I don't post The Company related comments on ANY social media outlet.

I would love to say that this has led to some grand epiphany, which will now lead to the floodgates of my thoughts/feelings/opinions being opened.

Yeah...not so much.

At the end of the day, I am still me.  I am still going to consider the feelings of others before I spout off.

And I am still going to laugh at those whom I love who throw caution to the wind and type/say exactly what they think.

And hope that each of you is aware of how thankful I am that you give my thoughts freedom, even when I don't.

Rent-A-Cat

After spending over a decade together, I have come to understand my husband very well.  Last week, he informed me of his desire to add a feline member to our household.  To anyone else, that might seem like a random request.

However, I have learned that hubs very rarely (if ever) acts rashly. That meant that he had been contemplating the addition of a feline friend for a while.

Since there are lots of worthy animals in our area awaiting new homes at our local shelter, my first stop was their website.  All available animals are listed at PetFinder, so off I went in search of a kitty to fit our family.  We located a couple online who looked promising and fit our desires (adult female, short-haired), so we planned on a trip on Friday to the shelter.

In the interim, I mentioned the search to my mother.  Since both boys have a history of allergies, she proposed an idea.  Instead of getting a cat who might have to go back due to the allergies, she recommended we ask Poppa about "renting" one of his kitties.  This would allow for us to try out the cat without worrying about the cost or sadness for Z if he got attached and the cat had to be returned.

So, last week, I ventured over to collect our Rent-A-Cat: Abby.  The first night was the "getting to know each other" night.  Lots of curious wandering for her...lots of following to make sure nothing was ingested, scratched, or left behind for me.

As you can see, I clearly needn't have worried:

Two days later, the question came.  I had expected it much sooner, so two days was a stretch.   The question?  "Mommy, can Abby live with us forever?"

Thankfully, Abby didn't trigger allergies the way our previous canine companion did.  However, the ultimate decision would be left up to Poppa.  Would he let her stay?

Apparently, the contract included a rent-to-own clause.

After years as dog people, we are now venturing into cat ownership, as we are officially Abby the Tabby Cat's owners.  While we don't have the basics to worry about (feeding, watering, litter-boxing have all been taught, since she's an adult kitty), we are quickly learning her personality and her quirks (not a fan of kitty treats or her new collar, loves plastic eggs).

So, we're getting to know one another, one day at a time.  So far, so good.

We might turn out to be cat people after all.