It seems like forever since I wrote something on here that I that was worth hitting publish. I guess it will be a few more weeks. Today I am just dumping an update on the ups and downs around our household.
The other night kicked off the week when in the course of one hour I discovered rabbit poop in my pocket, chased a naked two year old swinging a pirate sword, and was bitten by a wallaby. Just a normal start to a week I suppose. That was before Toby took a turn for the worse.
I have mentioned before that a wallaby desires nothing more than to die. They are almost indistinguishable from a gothic teen. More Emo than Goth actually because they aren’t angry just dark and suicidal. They even have black fingernails. Early this week Toby started to show signs of not feeling well. He stopped eating and slowly lost energy to the point where he didn’t want to stand up. Then he stopped talking his bottles and even refused to hump a stuffed animal. Truly dire straits.
First trip to a vet revealed cloudy lungs indicating pneumonia. Oral antibiotics. Next day he wouldn’t even lift his head. We searched several avenues for a cure and opted to go back to the vet. We tried an injectable antibiotic and were feeding him with a syringe. He improved slightly over the next day but still didn’t try to get up very much. He ate on a sweet potato for an evening but now he won’t even touch that. His breathing has improved but not his will to live.
Today he went back to the vet for another round of antibiotics and fluids. All I can say at this point is that he isn’t dead. We are on a mission of hourly hydration and force feeding. If he wants to die he will have to man-up and do it because I have other plans. Sometimes the cure for a hard set depression is persistent TLC. Stay tuned…
In other news, we attended the Christmas lunch and caroling for the oldest two children. I love seeing them in their element outside of the home. They have their own friends and routines and seeing their independence is a beautiful thing. A nice random conversation:
(I walked into the bathroom and a small boy in my oldest child’s class was leaving. He looked at me like he recognized me.)
Boy: Hey you.
Boy: My friend told me that your kid robbed the school.
Then he left, apparently sufficiently satisfied that I didn’t raise a criminal. I am still curious if someone robbed our school and I didn’t know about it. Life is so random sometimes. Oh well, onward!
Reasons I felt like a loser this week include:
1) Forgetting to remind the family that there was a lunch/singing event.
2) Waiting until yesterday to actually purchase a Christmas tree. We had the joy of picking through the last eight trees that Lowes had but at least they were marked down 25%. Probably related to the amount of leaves that had fallen off already. No soaping the tree because our AIDS ridden wallaby might eat it and die.
3) We washed clothes for each coming day, the night before. This entire week. I vote for moving to a nudist colony. It would only be a change for myself and Supermom.
4) I am fluctuating between hoping Toby lives to hoping Toby dies. I hate the indecision. After a week of critical care he should have the decency to recover already. Or die. I don’t want that though. I am willing him to live. Somehow they become like children. Part of the family. He will spend thirty minutes staring at his reflection and I will wonder, “What is he thinking?” only to realize that he probably isn’t thinking. He is a stupid selfish, dying jerk. And he smells like maple syrup from peeing on himself but in thirty minutes I will feed him again and try to talk him into surviving. Is anger the first stage of grief? I think so. It is what you do…
5) I stayed up too late every night this week and twice our Elf on the Shelf wasn’t able to move to a new place. The kids love that thing.
Oh yeah I almost forgot. Prima, our resident ballerina, fell face first into the bleacher at school while sitting on it and she bit a hole in her lip, knocked out a bottom tooth, and had to go to the doctor’s office to check it all out. The PE teacher was really concerned and assured us that she was sitting and talking with her friends when she absentmindedly leaned to the wrong side. I believe him because I watched her do the same thing off the couch about a year ago and she broke her wrist. Only to Prima is watching TV a dangerous sport.
So to recap… some sort of doctor’s office, bodily injury, and impending emotional loss every day this week.
Merry Fucking Christmas.
ps. 88% of my survey respondents rarely or never shower with a significant other. 12% of you are awesome. The other 88% either stink or need to work on your relationships. Just saying.