i wish that i knew what i know now, when i was younger

i have a cat. she is rather fat and lazy but cute like a button, whatever that means. but i wouldn't say she is the best behaved, in fact i would say she sways strongly toward the deviant.

you see, marko and i come from different schools of thinking. he is fairly strict when it comes to the cat. the rules are simple, she doesn't get to sit on anything that we would sit on, or lie on and definately not eat on. so mostly she is banished to the floor. on hot days like today she doesn't complain, but she's a cat, she loves plush warm spots to lay down her fur, literally. he is firm with her and consistent, which i see now is the key to success in matters like this. i am an enormous pushover. those that know me will not be surprised by this fact. i let her get away with everything (hence the picture above...and yes that is the kitchen table!). i know she shouldn't be doing it but i look into those green eyes and i melt. i mean she is a cat, she has to sit inside all day and has no friends, the least i can let her do is cuddle with me in bed...right? but this morning whilst wrestling with her over the yogurt on my spoon i found myself wondering if i am doing more harm than help.

for those of you that doubt the intelligence of a cat, you haven't hung out with mine. she sits beside me in bed while i read and can be perfectly content but she always has one ear cocked. she is listening for the ominous footprints and once she hears them come from the back bedroom she is up and off the bed before he gets there. she has learned, he keeps a tight ship and we don't want to let him down. it's good for me, or it was for awhile. marko would never know she was on the bed but lately he has caught on and he comes to feel for the warm spot. "honey! you know she isn't supposed to be up there..." yes it's true, I know. but still i can't say no.

so this of course isn't really about the cat. when we are gone all day she will do as she pleases, and she does. there is no fighting the fickle temperament of the feline. no, for me, it is about my parenting ability. or lack there of. i am hoping that sometime between now and when i have children of an age that require discipline i will have grown a backbone or at the very least mastered the art of consistency. i suppose i am plagued by this in all aspects of my life, never able to say no, overcomitting and becoming frustrated when i feel unappreciated. doing the thing that makes the other person happy and then choking on the cat hair in my cereal later.

but still, and this is where it gets tricky, at the end of the day when i come home and sit with my feet up she is always there to lick my cheek and remind me i am the one she likes the best. and sometimes that feels like everything, and the cycle starts again.