I watch – rather – listen to Grey’s Anatomy. We no longer have regular TV, as I decided to cut the cable from our monthly expenses. Why pay $35 for something we weren’t using, and only had half of what we were supposed to have anyway?
Digressing into MTS hate isn’t why I was here this morning. Why I can’t sleep yet again.
The last two episodes have been really painful to watch. Karev’s intern, Morgan, had to give birth prematurely to her son. Very prematurely. Tommy (name revealed in the last episode) weighs just over 14 ounces. The fake baby they use, if anyone is interested, is very realistic.
I know. And that’s why it hurts. In 1992, I was pregnant with twins. On June 8th at almost 22 weeks, my water broke and Brittany & Lori were born.
Seeing that baby, fake or not, brings it all back. Knowing that 20 years ago there was pretty much nothing they could do to save even one of the girls, and now babies their size actually survive and some have normal lives… so many what ifs.
Tommy’s little body in that isolette is so familiar, yet not… it reminds me so much of what I wanted to see back then; not my little girls swaddled and cold, but under the lamps, warm and growing. Breathing. Living.
I’ve been extremely busy elsewhere – and yes, I know that’s no excuse – but it has interfered with keeping up with the blogs. I also really haven’t had that much to say…
So, because the rats have been amusing lately (always, really), here’s a catch-up with them.
My rat (Dax) spent a great deal of time running around with a piece of cooked macaroni hanging out of her mouth tonight. Not from the front, but from the side. It looked like she was smoking a tiny pipe. When she finished that, she spent the rest of her free time jumping from the love seat to the top of the ‘big girl’ cage to taunt Lux and Mynx. We still can’t tell what color Dax’s eyes are; sometimes they’re black, sometimes they’re really, really dark red. I know when the light hits them right, the pupil reflects red, so I assume she’s got ruby eyes. Still, her having such dark eyes for such a white body – she’s not albino, aka ‘PEW’, she’s ‘high-white’. Basically, she’s a black rat with a lot of large white markings, covering most of her body.
Tonx was out as well… she’s finally calmed down, and now instead of biting right away, she sets her top teeth on my finger for a second, then moves on to do what she does. Occasionally I can hang on to her long enough to give her a good scritchin’, and then she’ll boggle her eyes like crazy. Yeah, that still freaks me out a bit. Check this out, see if it bothers YOU! LOL (this rat is probably what Hex’ll look like when she’s older; Chailyn is also a blue hooded dumbo, from the look of it)
Lux has become very grouchy and lazy since Luna died, so we only take her out on her own, or with Tonx. Mynx’s tumors are an issue outside of the cage, so she basically stays in there; and she’s still proud of them. I can see it when she’s cleaning them! The look on her little face is hilarious… Still, it’s coming down to time for her, I think.
Carrie’s rat (Hex) is such a creeper – she just stares at us. We know, though. We know. Some night, she’s going to escape and stuff our noses with Boxo. She’s such a stereotypical dumbo, right down to checking in our mouths for any dentistry that needs doing. She also takes charge of everyone and everything, making sure what’s hers is hers, and what’s ours is hers. She’s begun to show some very dominant traits lately, so I think the sooner we get them all moved into the ‘big girl’ cage, the better.
Rhia’s rat (Syx) is just a sweetie. She comes over, bites my earlobe and then settles her weird color-changing butt on my shoulder so she dig around in my hair. I can’t get over her coloring – when we picked her up from the breeder, she was the darker blue, between her and Hex. Now, she’s much lighter, and the rump and back part of her hood have turned a fawn color. That seems to be fading too, so I’m wondering if she’s a roan.
Old Jynx is beginning to recover from her skin condition, I think. She’s still bald in some spots, but the red-soreness is gone, and the eruptions have begun to heal over. We’d given her ten days on her meds, and now she’s off until Thursday, and we’ll start over if need be. In the meantime, we’ve all but cut out proteins from her diet. She gets half the ‘daily recommended amount’ on the back of the rat kibble bag; it’s listed as 20%!! Usually, adult rats are allowed 12-16%. The rest of her food is grain-based and veggie-based, so she’s still getting some protein, but apparently it’s not going to cause a reaction like the other. She’s still in the isolation cage, and I’ll be honest… I think she’ll stay there. I hate having her on her own, but just in case one of the others gets sick with something, I don’t want her old immune system fighting too hard.
Hard to believe she’s over two years old already! o_O
And we’ll never buy rat food from that store again. You know the one, where the employees have to wear blue smocks and greet you with a smile? Yeah. That one. The mixed deluxe rat food was absolutely loaded down in mites, and of course we didn’t notice them until it was too late. Do I think the company put ‘em in there? That’d be crazy. Whoever the blue-smock company has provide them with the stock, that plant is infested. o_O
Thank gods the pet shop opened again and we can head back there for our needs. Hopefully they get the Boxo bedding in again soon, though… LOL.
We’re thinking of getting a couple of males in the summer; Care even has colors and names picked out. I want to find out from the vet (our awesome, awesome vet!) if she’ll do neutering for them, first. I know she can do spaying, and though I assume neutering would be easier, ya never know. I hate to say it this way, but by then it’s likely we’ll only have the four (Tonx, Hex, Dax and Syx).
ETA:Mynx crossed the rainbow bridge on February 27th, at 9:30 PM or thereabouts. Rest in piece, beautiful girl, we’ll miss you!
Because this post actually focuses on the Week 2 challenges and prompts set out by the AYWM folks…
This week’s challenge was to decide whether we’d found ourselves, our soul-compass, yet, and what we would call into our lives to round it out; we were also asked to think about what our 80-year-old self would write in a letter to our present selves. Finally, we were to look at our present selves to see in what ways we’re a goddess. A lot of stuff for one week, and it’s taken two for me to work it all out.
I like to think I have my compass, that I’ve found my self… I enjoy spending time with the girls and friends, it feels like where I’m supposed to be. While my job doesn’t pay well, it is rewarding, and I enjoy it immensely, most days. I look at where I am now, and while it’s not where the 16 year old envisioned the omg-I’m-almost-40 me being, it’s better than where I could be. A lot better. I could be where I was a while back. Disillusioned and allowing bad habits to prevail, playing follow the leader into a place I should never have been; a place those leaders now call me hypocrite for being. Confusion has kept me angry for too long, and I realize I don’t care. I should have known the first time I was verbally slapped to just back the fuck away. Should have, didn’t. Life is full of lessons to be learned and re-learned, right?
I would definitely call more time into my life to be with my family, to work on our studies and just be close. I mean, we are close – probably closer than we should be – but we don’t spend the kind of time together that I’d like. Having such different tastes in pretty much everything, we complement each other well, but it also keeps us from finding a common source of bonding. We’re hoping to remedy that this year, so maybe by summer we’ll have time to actually do that something.
My 80-year-old self would look back on this time and want to warn me to stop and listen to my heart and my instincts. Listen to G. and (I hate admitting this) J.S. & M. when they told me I should watch where I placed my trust, that I was trusting people that were doing little more than slapping me down. I know J.S. & M. were doing the same thing, and perhaps that was all part of why I didn’t listen… but no matter. I should have listened to my own inner self. Instincts are the fight or flight trigger, after all. Fight? No. I should have walked away. Sometimes flight is the better option. I think, had I received such a letter, it would have done me a world of good, and perhaps I’d not have let others step on me and my work/talents (such as they are). For too long now I’ve felt more like a shadow than a writer, a nag more than an editor. Having seen the success of my work in the last six months, I think I’ve been hindered by blinders too long.
Out of necessity, I’ve had to become a goddess of multi-tasking. My Belfire requirements include a lot of editing, a lot of cover work, a lot of promotional work and a lot of communication with the Belfire-family; my own family needs me, as well as my group. I set aside a lot of time with the family, both the girls and the group-family, to spend more time working, networking, etc. It’s time I set aside some of that so I can continue working on me, and if the last six months are anything to go by, I think it’ll be well worth it.
