Thinking about having children and starting a family of our own has brought on some crazy daydreams. As I laid in bed wide-eyed this morning at 2:30am (thank you pregnancy insomnia), I remembered a big day in my childhood. A happy day. The morning of my 8th birthday I hopped in my mom's car and we drove to the parking lot of her top secret place of employment (an unusual morning to say the least). We sat for a few minutes and someone pulled up next to us, got out, and promptly placed a little kitten in my lap.
Up until that day I had practically begged and pleaded with my parents to get me a cat. I prayed and wished and hoped with all of my might - never really believing that I would ever have a cat of my own one day. (Not very faithful at that time in my life, I suppose.)
After a few minutes of petting and oogling the little kitty, I began to hand her back to the lady and she said "Oh no, she's yours!" And my mom said "Happy Birthday!"
Oh! What a glorious day!
Since I had a summer birthday, I was able to go home with the little kitten and spend all day long with her. This is where my memories start to make me a giggle a little. First of all... you have to remember that I have never had a cat before this day. Ever. So while I am petting this little thing it's entire body begins to vibrate and make this weird, weird noise... I freaked out. I called my mom at work and said "The kitten! It's making this terrible noise! Something is wrong!" And my mom spent probably 5 solid minutes on the phone convincing me that it was totally normal and it meant she liked me. (She was purring. Imagine that.)
Then... oh dear. I don't know what I was thinking but I took my little self down to the navy exchange on base (I am surprised - looking back - that I did all this alone at the age of 8. Perhaps I am forgetting that there was a babysitter around?) and bought food bowls, cat food, a cat bed, a collar and..... a leash. And I promptly returned home, fastened the new collar (bell and all) onto the little kitty and attached her to the leash. Then we went outside and I tried to walk that cat. No. joke.
Needless to say that was not very successful. Luckily, she forgave me for the torture and that day was the beginning of an awesome 13 years together. Babycakes was her name. Don't ask... I was 8 years old and drunk off of the influence of my older sister. You may ask her where SHE heard of that name, though. :) I firmly believe there will never be another cat like Babycakes and I have zero intention of attempting to replace her. (Okay let's just say that idea was a big, fat failure the summer after Babycakes passed away.) :)
It's fun... recalling these old memories and stories. I can't wait to see what life and memories the Lord will drum up for our precious little babe. I pray the good will heavily outweigh the bad and that most of all, our baby grows up to truly know what it means to be a Christ follower and love the Lord. <3