A few months into dating, my husband and I adopted a cat — well, he adopted the cat; I helped him pick her out. Now several years on, we have two cats and a toddler. I know people like to say that pets are a primer for parenthood, but being a pet mom (be it a cat or dog) has nothing on raising an actual human being. And anyone who thinks it’s the same, well, you just wait and see…

Now that our son is completely independently mobile, we spend a lot of time chasing him around the house or turning our backs for one second only to turn back and find him sitting on the dining table eating a nectarine (at least he’s going for the healthy stuff. *shrugs*) As he partakes in more and more dangerous activities, I start to realize that the cats do this sh*t all the time and it’s nowhere near as stressful.

I’ve watched and laughed countless times as our female cat tries to jump from one surface to another. She is a beautiful orange tabby, but God did not gift her with grace…or long enough legs. When we lock the baby gate, her younger cat brother leaps over it like it’s nothing while she sits and stares longingly, waiting to be let in or out of the living room.

We recently bought a learning ladder for our toddler to stand on and watch/vaguely help while I cook. The other morning I watched as our tabby tried to jump from the ladder to the dining table and fall in spectacular fashion to the floor. Again, I laughed. She’s a cat; she got right up, walked over to the play mat, and proceeded to clean herself. Now, had this been my son (again, he climbed from the ladder to the dining table and ate a nectarine), I would’ve held him and checked his entire body for scrapes, bruises, and/or broken bones. I would have questioned how I could’ve stopped looking for one second to put my shoes on instead of having my eyes glued on him.

I already suffer from incredible “mommy guilt” for leaving him at daycare every day or getting home from work with just enough time to make dinner, get him fed, and ready for bed. I’m sure he doesn’t realize that I only get to see him for an hour and a half every weeknight. All that matters is that we laugh, play, and cuddle when I’m there. I never had that feeling with our cats. Not once.

They don’t need me the way my son does. They only show need when we are late putting down their wet food. They don’t run up to us when we get home. The level of care needed for a pet isn’t the same as for a child. And no level of pet care can prepare you for being a mother to a child. There are no sleepless nights or constantly questioning whether or not you’re doing it right with a pet like there is with a kid.

The comparison between a pet and a baby negates what it actually means to be a mother. I know some people go the extra mile for their pets, but I promise you, it’s not the same as staying up all night making sure your baby stays hydrated because he has a stomach bug and has redecorated his crib with the contents of his stomach…twice.

I love our cats, but it’s nothing like loving our son.