I am not well and I now realize the fragile state of my mental health as I sat alone on a Saturday night taking pictures of my cats. They quickly grew bored with this activity and I moved on to taking self portraits with my phone for a Facebook profile picture that said, "Yes, I'm 46, but I still look 18." I never actually got that photo, I'm sad to report. The real problem is not my lack of photography skills or some odd interest in pets, but the fact that my children have reached that age that they are out with friends and no longer need me to order their meals, wipe their mouths or shield their eyes when an evil Disney character comes on screen. Notice I did not say “pay their way.” They still need me to do that and my money is being spent by the twenties at ball parks and movie theaters across the city while I sit home alone photographing kittens.
Realizing I must come up with a hobby to occupy this sudden onset of free time, I have looked into scrap-booking, on-line cooking courses, and even the possibility of doing the laundry on a Saturday night. All seem equally depressing. Fridays and Saturdays have taken on new meaning to me and I have to accept that my kids are having a wonderful time doing all the things we used to do together.
My friend suggested that I put the kitten photos into a calendar. I toyed with this idea for a bit and think my calendar should only have Fridays and Saturdays in. One hundred and four very important days each year that children should focus on and not forget about the moms that sit at home alone secretly tracking them with the latest iPhone application and a topographic map. Knowing that this would never sell, I took to my bed.

So... as my children are packing my twenties, my husband is away at deer camp and I can’t appear in public with a shiner, I sit home alone on a Saturday night making kitty calendars and sizing up the laundry pile. My God - I’m slowly turning into the crazy cat lady at the end of the street!
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