So as you probably read HERE, we are not great at keeping fish alive.
Well, we have hit a new record even for us.
We went to the markets on Saturday and because AJ was so good we decided she should be allowed to get a new fish. A siamese fighting fish, of course, because we've had soooo much luck with them previously.
She picked out her guy, we spoke to the guy about how we keep him alive for longer than a week and we all left feeling like this was the guy that we were gonna keep for a looooong time!
We came home and, while AJ was sleeping in the car, I cleaned the tank out to within an inch of it's life and got it ready for Mikayla. That's right. Mikayla. I tried to talk AJ into calling it MK or something a bit more manly but this is her name for the month so Mikayla it is.
When AJ woke up we put all the pebbles in and some new plants for MK (okay so I like MK far better) and sat him in the water in his little container so that the 2 water temps doth meet.
An hour later we popped him in the tank and he seemed very, very happy. Gave him a touch of food and he was swimming around sussing out his new surrounds. Impressed I think would be the word to describe him. A damn sight better that the little container he'd been in.
Now, here's the scary part. We have a lid on our tank with just a teensy hole. I get up in the morning and are old friend MK has gone! Vanished. Just like that. No signs of a struggle. No water around the tank to suggest cats getting that one claw in and under the hole of the lid. Just nothing!
I checked in under the rocks thinking poor MK might have met his fate by searching for some food or trying to hide from said cats but, nope. Not there! Where the fuck can a fish go?
So our new record in losing a fish is a whole 12 hours. Not even a full day!
We're guessing he slipped out of the hole by himself. Seems far fetched but how else do you explain it. No doubt the cats got him after that but, there's no way they could have got their paws in there. I don't care how clever they think they are.
See, now I wish I had video surveillance on this house!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Today...
I have just discovered that today is International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.
Little wonder then that, today, I have been reminiscent of my lost little angels and the impact they had on me and my husband.
While most people look at our 2 healthy ratbags and tell us how blessed we are to have them, I wonder how many of those would spare a thought for the ones we have lost and how surprised most of them would be to find out that we still think about them and what could have been.
I mean, surely I should be grateful for what I have, not what I have lost.
But, you see, herein lies the problem and this is where people tend to forget. My first pregnancy, the first exciting test, waiting in anticipation for those 2 lines to come up, the life we had dreamed for our little miracle and all the innocence of being pregnant - lost.
So, while it may seem insignificant to others, I will NEVER forget my first little miracle or the 2nd or the 3rd.
And, I will NEVER forget seeing a heartbeat one week, then nothing the next.
And, while I would never wish for anyone to experience the heartache of any kind of loss of a baby or child, I will always feel a little pang of jealousy of those that are blissfully unaware of the unlucky events that can and do take place.
Yet, out of this heartache, some friendships have been formed that would never have happened had I not reached out to find compassion from people travelling a similar path to my own. To find a safe place to grieve without being met by indifference or rolling eyes that suggest I'm overreacting. To be able to share the stress of each new pregnancy and the sleepless nights spent wondering as to whether this will be "the one" that sticks. And to share the joy of having a babe in arms.
I have met people who have lost so much but who can still show so much compassion and support for others.
I will be lighting a candle tonight, not only for myself, but for all the parents who have lost. A little piece of ourselves or our whole world.
Fly free little angels and watch over your sisters.
Little wonder then that, today, I have been reminiscent of my lost little angels and the impact they had on me and my husband.
While most people look at our 2 healthy ratbags and tell us how blessed we are to have them, I wonder how many of those would spare a thought for the ones we have lost and how surprised most of them would be to find out that we still think about them and what could have been.
I mean, surely I should be grateful for what I have, not what I have lost.
But, you see, herein lies the problem and this is where people tend to forget. My first pregnancy, the first exciting test, waiting in anticipation for those 2 lines to come up, the life we had dreamed for our little miracle and all the innocence of being pregnant - lost.
So, while it may seem insignificant to others, I will NEVER forget my first little miracle or the 2nd or the 3rd.
And, I will NEVER forget seeing a heartbeat one week, then nothing the next.
And, while I would never wish for anyone to experience the heartache of any kind of loss of a baby or child, I will always feel a little pang of jealousy of those that are blissfully unaware of the unlucky events that can and do take place.
Yet, out of this heartache, some friendships have been formed that would never have happened had I not reached out to find compassion from people travelling a similar path to my own. To find a safe place to grieve without being met by indifference or rolling eyes that suggest I'm overreacting. To be able to share the stress of each new pregnancy and the sleepless nights spent wondering as to whether this will be "the one" that sticks. And to share the joy of having a babe in arms.
I have met people who have lost so much but who can still show so much compassion and support for others.
I will be lighting a candle tonight, not only for myself, but for all the parents who have lost. A little piece of ourselves or our whole world.
Fly free little angels and watch over your sisters.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
On a Brighter Note...
In 6 days I'm going to be lazing by a pool in Fiji!
No kids, no husband. Just me and one of my best friends. Wow! Imagine. Being able to get through a whole conversation with no interruptions.
No fighting, no tears or tantrums, no "muuuuuum". Biggest decision - pool or beach? Hmmmm.
And you know what I'm looking forward to the most? S-L-E-E-P.
However, I must admit that our little Schmooey has graced us with a few good nights lately. Little cherub!
No kids, no husband. Just me and one of my best friends. Wow! Imagine. Being able to get through a whole conversation with no interruptions.
No fighting, no tears or tantrums, no "muuuuuum". Biggest decision - pool or beach? Hmmmm.
And you know what I'm looking forward to the most? S-L-E-E-P.
However, I must admit that our little Schmooey has graced us with a few good nights lately. Little cherub!
Friday, October 12, 2007
That Looming Feeling...
Was, in fact, all a very big warning that something big was about to happen.
And. It was. BIG!
I was speaking to my mother a couple of days after I wrote this and she was horrible. I mean truly horrible. Not one teensy weensy fragment of nice there at all and, for some reason, this time, it really hit me.
And hit me hard. I was close to an anxiety attack I'm sure of it. I just couldn't believe that after all the "forgiving" I had to do and all the "understanding" I needed to have that this person could turn around and be THAT BAD!
Bad to the point that I was ashamed that I could be any part of her life, let alone her daughter. How was is that this person came to be my mother? I just don't understand how somebody like her could give birth to somebody like me. We are at total opposite ends of the scale.
I'm a really good person. To a fault, some might say. My wonderful husband told me that night that I shouldn't be worried because I'm nothing like her. I'm a good person with a good, loving heart. But that made it even harder to comprehend.
Where was the grand plan in all of this? Where was the lesson that I needed to learn so badly that I chose someone who could be so nasty and have such vindictive, hurtful thoughts about others. And not just that, but voice them!
I have found it really hard to come to terms with all of this. After letting my mum into my world when my first daughter was born, and giving her more than a few do-overs, I just can't believe we are back here. Back to where we were before the girls were born. Back to her just being my mother. Nothing more, nothing less. Just somebody who birthed me and, by some stroke of luck, and probably more thanks to other people, kept me alive and well until I was old enough to look after myself.
It is so sad that what I'd been striving for - and, for that matter, what I thought she was revelling in - has all gone to waste.
We don't speak much now. I haven't spoken to her in over a week. And we don't do our Thursday morning breakfast ritual anymore. And I miss that. I really do. But I can't. I can't do this anymore. Where I thought I needed to let my anger at her go and continue on this journey, I now find that I just need to let her go. Stop reaching out. Stop always hoping for the change. Stop making myself believe that the change was made only to be upset when we hit a new low.
And I'm sad. But, in a strange way, I'm at peace with this decision.
But I'm still sad.
And. It was. BIG!
I was speaking to my mother a couple of days after I wrote this and she was horrible. I mean truly horrible. Not one teensy weensy fragment of nice there at all and, for some reason, this time, it really hit me.
And hit me hard. I was close to an anxiety attack I'm sure of it. I just couldn't believe that after all the "forgiving" I had to do and all the "understanding" I needed to have that this person could turn around and be THAT BAD!
Bad to the point that I was ashamed that I could be any part of her life, let alone her daughter. How was is that this person came to be my mother? I just don't understand how somebody like her could give birth to somebody like me. We are at total opposite ends of the scale.
I'm a really good person. To a fault, some might say. My wonderful husband told me that night that I shouldn't be worried because I'm nothing like her. I'm a good person with a good, loving heart. But that made it even harder to comprehend.
Where was the grand plan in all of this? Where was the lesson that I needed to learn so badly that I chose someone who could be so nasty and have such vindictive, hurtful thoughts about others. And not just that, but voice them!
I have found it really hard to come to terms with all of this. After letting my mum into my world when my first daughter was born, and giving her more than a few do-overs, I just can't believe we are back here. Back to where we were before the girls were born. Back to her just being my mother. Nothing more, nothing less. Just somebody who birthed me and, by some stroke of luck, and probably more thanks to other people, kept me alive and well until I was old enough to look after myself.
It is so sad that what I'd been striving for - and, for that matter, what I thought she was revelling in - has all gone to waste.
We don't speak much now. I haven't spoken to her in over a week. And we don't do our Thursday morning breakfast ritual anymore. And I miss that. I really do. But I can't. I can't do this anymore. Where I thought I needed to let my anger at her go and continue on this journey, I now find that I just need to let her go. Stop reaching out. Stop always hoping for the change. Stop making myself believe that the change was made only to be upset when we hit a new low.
And I'm sad. But, in a strange way, I'm at peace with this decision.
But I'm still sad.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)