Crazy Cat Lady

I knew better than to comment on my friend's FB status regarding her admiration for her child's recent accomplishment. I knew that by commenting I'd be opening myself up to ridicule and maybe criticism, not from her, but possibly from our mutual FB friends. I knew all that and I commented anyway.

She is my oldest and dearest friend. I love her, and like all of my friends who have children, I am slightly jealous that she gets to be a mom. My comment was in no way intended to degrade her child's accomplishment or her joy in basking in that accomplishment.

I don't have a child to brag about, or a similar experience to share. Instead I have cat stories, so I gave one acknowledging that my cat's acheivement (I swear I heard 'Mama' in a meow once) was obviously not as amazing as listening to your child read to you, but was just as cool.

Not only does my dear friend have a great sense of humor, she knows my heart and how long we have struggled to have a child.

It was a mutual friend, whose sense of humor you either love or hate and at times can border on the unkind, made a comment that on the surface was funny but hurtful to the core. Basically this person commented that after 18 years I proved them right by becoming the Crazy Cat Lady.

Intially it made me laugh. Then I could feel the air slowly escape my lungs. No, no, no, don't cry, Jonelle! The snarky, yet factual part of my brain took over before the weepy, emotional part of my brain could stew in the comment. I quickly responded with, "When you're not able to have children, you become the Crazy Cat Lady."

I'm not proud of the motive behind my response to this person. I'm not proud that I wanted to make this person feel bad about reminding me about my crazy cat lady status, because when it comes down to it, this person was right. I did become the Crazy Cat Lady, not by choice...it just happened somewhere between year 3 and year 5 of trying to have a baby, hormones being overtaken by fertility drugs, the repetitive crash and burn of a medicated cycle and being constantly disappointed with failed IUIs and miscarriages, that I became a Crazy Cat Lady.



Grab your starter kit today.



I'm confused. Because while this comment initially hurt my feelings after a while I really didn't care. In fact, after I posted my reply, I embraced my CCL status by posting this picture from ihazcheeseburger.com. 

Why should I be ashamed of having a cat? Jack has helped me during the darkest days of IF. He has been there when I couldn't be bothered to get up off the couch, because I couldn't stop crying over another failed cycle, or miscarriage. Even now, when I'm having a bad day he will follow me around the apartment to make sure I'm okay. So what if I talk to my cat as if he understands what I'm saying. I'd like to think he actually does understand me, though I know he really doesn't.

People talk about their kids all the time, why can't I talk about my cat? Because if I do, I'm called a Crazy Cat Lady. But if I had a child, and talked about him/her all the time, I'd be called a Proud Parent.

And really, I'm not certain you become a CCL if you only have one cat. I'd like to think that instead of a being a CCL, I'm a Dedicated Pet Parent.

So, I've been called a D.I.N.K, a Woman of Leisure and now Crazy Cat Lady. Excellent.