2025: Year of the Cat
Looking back on a good but sometimes fraught year.
This was the year we got a cat.
We were actually put on the road to becoming a feline household about a year ago, when my daughter asked for a turtle for Christmas. My wife and I got her a stuffed turtle to placate her while we figured out the logistics, but it seemed a bit complicated. Turtles live a long time, and that’s a commitment. Also, turtles can grow to be pretty big and we had no idea where a tank would go in our small house. And, turtles are expensive. We racked our brains for a solution, until my wife asked my daughter:
“How about a cat?”
Here’s the thing: I’ve never been a cat person. I like dogs. I’ve always owned dogs. We currently own a dog. Dogs are friendly, energetic and loyal. Cats judge. They sneak. They hiss. Also, I’m slightly allergic. But I also love my daughter and can be a pushover when it comes to her. I figured I could pop some Claritin and hopefully the cat and I would stay out of each other’s way.
Which is how, in July, we adopted a 7-year-old cat named Nova from a local family1. And it quickly became clear that Nova was not too interested in the kids. Not mean or aggressive; she just prefers adults. And, as God’s sense of humor ordained, she particularly liked me. I’d lay in bed watching a movie and she’d curl up next to me. I’d sit on the couch meditating and praying in the morning, and she’d join me2. She became a Chris person. And, I have to admit, I became a cat person.
I’ve never been around cats much, and I was charmed by her little personality. Where our dog, a feisty Boston Terrier/Jack Russell mix named Max, is all energy and playfulness, Nova’s a classic cat. Friendly on her terms, happy to be pet but not to cuddle, curious about weird things. She’s also extremely set on routine, which makes her a little easier to understand. She’s funny and cute and also mostly just keeps to herself. She’s made our house a little richer and more interesting. We’ll keep her.
But here’s the thing: Cats aren’t problem-free creatures. And as much affection as we have for Nova, frustration has come with it. For one, she hates my dog. The cartoons weren’t lying; they really dislike each other. He barks at her, she hisses at him on sight. He lunges, she swipes. He’s more scared of her than she is of him (if she’s around, he stays behind my wife and I). Over the months, they’ve learned to largely just stick to their own territories, with her staying upstairs until he goes to bed. But every once in a while, Max will head into another room and she’ll be waiting for him, almost as if to ask him “what are you going to do about it.”
Also, I knew cats were crepuscular creatures but I didn’t realize how active they were at night. Nova wanders the house all night, which means several times she comes into our room. She meows to announce her presence and figure out where we’re at. She jumps on the bed and sniffs at my face. That’s all bearable, but what’s not is the scratching. Scratching at the closet doors. Scratching at the main doors. Scratching at the furniture. She has scratching posts downstairs but still attacks all our doors in our room. We’ve tried gates; she jumps over everything3. We’ve tried sprays and melatonin chews; she acclimates to them. I’ve had some success in taping clear plastic on our closet doors, but that’s not feasible throughout our house. Over time, it’s become less drastic and hopefully she mellows with age.
On the positive side, she’s litter-trained and has killed two mice.
All that to say that having a cat has been overall fine, but it’s also had some frustrations and challenges. Which feels like a great way to sum up our year.
Our 2025 didn’t start great. My wife’s father passed away in late January and those who’ve lost a parent know that the grief process doesn’t end quickly (or maybe at all). Watching my wife go through this is new for me, and I don’t always know how to help her process the grief or give her what she needs. I’m someone who wants to fix everything or give advice, and it’s hard for me to learn that she just sometimes needs a listening ear and quiet presence. I feel like I’ve gotten better at that in our 14 years of marriage, but I’m still sometimes frustrated with myself that I have no words to help her navigate the complex emotions.
The same day my father-in-law died, my son turned 13. How’s that for an emotionally charged day? I can’t believe I have a teenager. Those who’ve been here have told me it moves fast; I didn’t appreciate how right they were. I can go back on my phone and see pictures of him at 2 or 3, and in my mind he’s still there. Except he’s not. He’s turning into a young man. I see a lot of myself in him, for good and ill. He has a strong moral compass and is compassionate. I also see the laziness, frustration and insecurity that plagued me at that age. I’d blocked out how much of an emotional hurricane the middle school years are. As a parent, dealing with that can be exhausting and overwhelming; I have to remind myself that it’s even more so for him. But he’s a good kid. He’s friendly. He loves others and wants to take care of them. He’s going to be okay, and I try to tell him that whenever I get the chance.
My daughter is 10. How the heck did that happen? I know we had a family before Cece, but I cannot remember what that was like. It was definitely less colorful and cute. But while she periodically reminds my wife and me that she still “likes rainbows and unicorns,” I can see her growing up and I know that soon she’ll also be in teen-hood. We’re not quite approaching empty-nester life yet, but I can see it on the horizon. I’m proud of my kids, and I’m excited to see the people they’re becoming. And yet, I also wish life came with pause or rewind buttons.
Last Christmas, my wife got me a T-shirt that proudly proclaimed I was an “Unpaid Movie Critic.” I laughed because it was true – except, it no longer is. This year, I started writing about films for Collider and, for the first time since I was with the newspaper, I’m seeing steady income for writing about films. It’s not a ton, but it’s been helpful. But more than that, it feels legitimizing. To date, I’ve written nearly 70 articles for Collider, and I’m proud of them. When writing for a site that publishes so constantly, there’s a worry of creating clickbait. But I can proudly say I’ve never felt that writing for them. Everything I write has to be pitched and accepted, and the editors aren’t shy about denying pitches or asking them to be reworked if they don’t feel there’s a good angle there.
On top of that, I’ve published 104 posts here at Chrisicisms this year, including this one. And I still find this the most rewarding place to write. This is where my voice, my obsessions, my views all find a home. It’s where Perry and I publish We’re Watching Here – and a highlight of my year has been finally diving into David Lynch’s filmography with him. I’ve been writing here for more than five years now and it’s my home base. I’m proud of what I write here, and I’m very blessed to have several outlets for which to write about movies4.
Contrary to some people’s beliefs, this is not my full-time work. I have a day job, and last week I celebrated my 13th anniversary there. I don’t write about it much here because I know it’s not as interesting to my readers as the movie stuff. But it’s deeply rewarding and challenging work, and it was another great year. I’m proud of the work we did. It was a fraught year, with several changes in our organization and several projects that had me pulling my hair out. But at the end of the year, I’m proud of what we accomplished and looking forward to what lies ahead.
I also joined our vestry at church this year – a big move for someone who watched his dad endure so much deacon board chaos at our Baptist church that I swore I’d never be in any kind of church leadership. But we continue to be blessed by our church family, and serving on vestry has given me an up-close look at what godly leadership and pastoral care look like, and I find myself more grateful for the body of which we’re members. I still struggle with various aspects of faith; I’m sure doubt will always be there. I’m a progressive in a largely conservative (theologically and somewhat politically) body, and I still am amused that God led us to an Anglican church with my deep-seated irreverence and skepticism of authority and corporate leadership. But maybe it tempers me in the right places or provides a challenge in others. God brings us where we need to be, and while I find his sense of humor amusing, I also have no doubt that this is where we belong.
There’s a lot that’s happened this year. We spent a week at a beautiful house in Florida, which was heavenly. We spent a weekend at Great Wolf Lodge in Sandusky, Ohio, which was hell on earth. My son had his first surgery (a tonsillectomy). My wife and I enjoyed an eight-course dinner with drink pairings that was the best meal I’ve ever had. We rode roller coasters in Cincinnati, and my son spent 10 days at band camp. I saw Casablanca and Star Wars on the big screen, and I saw Weird Al Yankovic in concert. I went with a friend to a very loud and energetic punk-ska show in the summer, and then my wife and I went with friends to see a sedate Over the Rhine Christmas concert just a few weeks back. I went to Washington, DC, for a work conference this fall and had the chance to see the Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, and the White House, right before taking an Uber to finally see a movie at the Alamo Drafthouse. I joined fellow concerned citizens to protest our president and his policies on two separate occasions5.It was a busy year, mixed with good and bad.
And I’m tired.
Someone asked me how I stay so productive and busy. I probably said something like being disciplined and just getting the work done. But I’ll be honest: I fall into vicious cycles of productivity and burnout. I take on projects when I should probably be spending more time with my kids or taking care of my health. I’ve gotten better over the years at detaching my identity from the work I do, whether that’s my career or this side hustle I’ve maintained for two decades. But I’m in middle age now and my energy is more finite than it was even 10 years ago. The body keeps the score, as they say, and my thinning hairline, expanding waistline and constant need for naps are probably proof that I need to reprioritize and readjust in the coming year. But that, as they say, is a 2026 problem.
For now, rest. One of the benefits of my day job is that we close down between Christmas and New Year’s, and I had enough vacation time to make a two-week break for myself. As this publishes, I’m off work until Jan. 5. My writing for Collider is done, and I don’t intend to step into a movie theater (unless I do). I plan to use the next two weeks for spending time with family, catching up on reading and TV, sleeping, and preparing for the coming year. I’ll be back with a post sometime in the first half of January.
But before I sign off, thank you for reading and subscribing. It means the world to me that what I write here might be of some use, encouragement or amusement to you. Please, have a Merry Christmas and a happy new year. I’ll see you all in January!
Free cat!
To clarify, she’d sit on the couch next to me. I doubt she’s meditating and I doubt she has much faith; cats seem to think they’re God anyway.
She’s a fat cat, but she’s nimble.
Maybe one day that will be enough for Rotten Tomatoes.
I know that someone’s probably wondering how all-encompassing a year in review can be without mentioning the political turmoil or dwelling on the cruelty and incompetence of our president. Just let this be the only mention. We all know what’s going on; I’m paying attention. I’m also not going to let him dominate my end-of-year thoughts.




KITTEH 😍😍😍