The Dilemmas of Being a Mom

I can only assume that sometimes having a pet is like having a child. Most real parents would probably laugh at that statement but at my ripe age of 25, Smelly and Mo are the closest things to kids that I have and that I want. With that said, lately Lola has proven to be more like a child than ever.

With an uneasy stomach, a drooling mouth and a pathetic look, Lola has been sweeping the apartment with piles of vomit since Thursday. In true cat mom form I didn't worry at first because all animals throw up a little every once in a while, however, it is now Tuesday and Lola has thrown up about 15 times since Thursday, so I've gone from calm cat mom to crazy paranoid cat mom. I'm not going to sit here and tell you vomit details, but in an attempt to try and relate this blog to some regular things that are happening in my life and things not necessarily ALWAYS related to Penny and Lola I just found it interesting the things I've learned from this vomiting experience.

The first is that even though I didn't birth her (because that would be creepy), Lola definitely feels like my child. I find myself worrying about her, feeling helpless because I don't know how she's feeling, doing things like feeding her chicken broth, rushing to Petsmart at 8:45 before it closes at 9 to get her hair ball formula, shoving the hair ball formula down her throat because the whole "rub it on their paw" thing is a joke, following her around to lay down paper towels when she throws up and calling everyone I know to get advice on what to do. I'm like a new mother with a sick baby. But what can we do? Neither of the cats have ever been this sick before, so it appears that a vet visit is in the near future, but in the meantime I'm reflecting on this experience with a few life affirmations.

One: I am not ready for real children, I don't enjoy my things being thrown up on but I guess I should be thankful it wasn't on me.

Two: Animals really are family members

Three: Google might have the answer to everything but it will also scare the crap out of you before it solves anything.

As I sit in bed and as Lola sits in the sink, I deal with the dilemmas of being a mom. To vet or not to vet? Our children should be priceless but is it worth a $200 vet bill for them to tell me she has hair balls? Like real parenthood (I assume) we have to make these decisions for our kids and hope its the best one, I just hope in the end I've raised good cats.

I can at least thank Lola for her most recent actions which have brought me back to the blogging world.