Carnage On The Lawn

Dumb Little Dog brought a dead animal up to the back door deck yesterday morning -- the middle kiddle said it was a baby mouse. That's the story I got from hubby, as he was the Parent On Call in the morning.

Later that afternoon, Dumb Little Dog caught another one on the sidewalk (where she prefers to pee and poo because, well, she's Dumb Little Dog). This time I was the Parent On Call and I asked how big the baby mouse was -- when Des put her fingers apart suggesting a size of 4-5 inches, I knew there was a problem...

Thinking it was a rat -- which is no better, no worse, as far as that goes -- I decided to investigate what the backyard looked like with such large animal carcasses strewn upon it.

My investigation showed that this was not a case of either a momma mouse or a momma rat -- the baby I found was a baby rabbit.

(So much for everyone here in Green Acres who calls me the City Kid -- at least I can spot a bunny from a mouse!)

The baby rabbit was clearly in pain, swaying it's head and upper body from side-to-side, its little eyes not even open yet. Oh yeah, and there was a good-sized pool of bunny blood too.

I left it, hoping momma would come back soon, and went in search of the first victim -- hoping not to find him as that would be proof that he was alright.

No such luck.

His cold and rigid body was under the stairs (where he had been dropped between the second and third steps); his neck looked bloody and broken.

I took one last look at the maimed bunny on the sidewalk and told myself that momma would come for him if we left the yard alone.

Hours later, the baby bunny was still there, laying on it's side. Very still. I gently touched its wee head (with a white stripe that was too cute) and it moved. But it was very cool to the touch... I had to do something, so I picked it up in an old kitchen towel and hugging it close to warm it, brought it into the house.

I searched in vain for my old animal rescue gear; to no avail. (Memo to self -- and any others reading -- Do Not get rid of those small critter keepers, heat lamps and other pet stuff because you will need it again.)

I went to the Tupperware-slash-plastic food storage container cupboard and announced, "Who will shorten his life for a hurt baby bunny?" and grabbed one of those large ice cream buckets with the handle.

Tucking the baby in the towel gently inside the 'basket' I looked about for an eye-dropper. The only one I could find, believe it or not, was in a bottle of Rescue Remedy. Water, I felt, would be a better one; so I pulled out the dropper. I washed it, rinsed it, rinsed it again, sniffed it (for the Rescue Remedy scent), rinsed it again and again and sniffed it again before I decided it was OK.

I filled a small tippy cup (sans sippy lid) with tepid water and filled the dropper. I stroked his head and nudged his lips, but other than his blind head bobbing about imploringly, nothing much could be noticed of the attempts at hydration.

I put bundled bunny back in the bucket and I went in search of a light fixture generating heat.

Damn us and our environmental-slash-economic pursuits! All our bulbs (save for a few halogen bulbs aimed at art on the walls -- and those would fry the poor bunny-babbit!) are now those funny-looking twisty bulbs which are florescent or whatnot and so put out no heat.

I searched in the junk drawer and found one regular old bulb -- 100 watts. I un-plugged and moved the floor light fixture nearer to the couch, set the bunny basket-home on a TV tray, swapped bulbs, plugged the fixture in, and then turned it on -- POP the light bulb sparked and burnt-out.

Shit.

:sigh:

I picked bunny (named Spot) up and held him close for warmth. Stroking his head now and then and proffering drops of water.

It was then that Des noticed the blood on the towel -- not much, just a few drops. But this made it clear that Spot was still bleeding. Inspecting him showed a small-to-me, but-large-to-him, gash on his tummy -- likely from Dumb Little Dog's tooth.

I have to admit I began to shake a bit.

The idea of two murdered baby bunnies -- even by natural canine urges -- was sickening.

I sent Des to bed and that's when it hit me to turn to the Internet for help.

My first instincts were correct: You leave baby bunnies, health or maimed, where they are and hope for momma to come.

"The reality is fewer than 10% of orphaned rabbits survive a week..."

"Very young wild baby bunnies with eyes closed and ears back rarely survive in captivity, even given the most expert human care..."

"Mom will be coming back at night to call and feed him only once in the middle of the night. Do not take the bunny inside or feed him. That is the mom's job. IT IS A MATTER OF HIS/HER SURVIVAL AND UP TO US AS HUMANS TO LEAVE NATURE BE AND LET THE MOM CARE FOR HER YOUNG. We often hear of mothers moving their babies and their nests, and have seen moms come back every night for up to a week to look for her missing baby. Do not take the baby from the mom or she will be frantic."

I put him back where he was (the little pink stain on the sidewalk told me where) and left him.

I took the dogs elsewhere to pee and poo.

Hubby came home later and moved baby Spot to a place just over our fence, but near enough for momma to find him (just a few feet away -- but safe from the dogs, human foot traffic, and the very popular "Kitty Path" too).

Now I wait 'til morning to see...

Guarded Regarding Gardasil

Des' mom made her 'request' that Des get the new HPV vaccine. I was skeptical and suspicious of this new wonder drug; it was pushed through rather quickly. (Especially in Texas, where the lobbyist for the manufacturer is a pal of the governor. The manufacturer and the lobbyist stand to see lots of money from this mandatory vaccination of young women.)

While it's true that my Autism-spectrum daughter makes me re-think vaccinations in general (all my kids have their vaccinations, but I think about them long and hard because for every study which refutes a connection between Autism and vaccinations, another suggests it strongly), I was worried about Gardasil. What are the side-effects, long-term consequences? And why when most women's issues in this administration are completely, utterly ignored (or made worse) was this so quickly pushed through testing?

Seems I'm not crazy to be suspicious either.

I remain guarded against Gardasil and urge you all to be so as well.

Realities

On Saturday morning, what had begun as a joke became reality.

Hubby & I had joked that my mom, Grandma, could stay home with all three of the kids while my Dad, PaPa, took hubby and I out rummaging. Since we are all huge collectors, and dealers, this was supposed to be a joke --- but early Saturday morning, PaPa knocked on the door and said the bus was leaving. So we tumbled out of bed and stumbled into his van and headed off.

Derek and I found a few things, including (yet another) crate of 78's. No working player yet, but we're still looking. My dad spent a total of $1.

We returned, had lunch and then the two men started on sawing down trees, trimming dead branches etc. Allie went to a movie with one of her Wisconsin friends, so Grandma and I filled a pool with water and sent the liddle kiddles out to play in it.

Destiny, ever prudish, started with a t-shirt over her two-piece suit. (She finally agreed that a one-piece would be a good idea -- even worth spending her birthday money on! Reality point number two.)

Eventually she got brave enough to take off the shirt she was hiding in. Then she wanted more water in the pool. We warned her that it would be very, very cold, but she (and Hunter) insisted that's what they wanted.

Des stood in it, but that's it. Hunter submerged himself, dipped his head etc and got blue lips for his actions.

After a bit I got out the cellphone camera and snapped some pics. Do you have any idea how hard it is to take photos of a 7 year old boy?! Very.



Sure, he'll ham and pose -- but stand still and smile nicely? No way!



Eventually I had to order him to stand nice. (Poor Des then got his cold body pressed against her -- Brr!)


During their play, I noticed unusual bruising on Hunter's side. Because of the abuse, I was terrified. "It has begun," I thought with tears in my eyes and fear in my throat. It turns out the what I thought was bruising from fingers (finger tips and long pulling marks), wasn't. Hunter was bruised with a bike wheel and the strange "finger marks" matched up with his ribs. But for quite some time I was convinced of the worst. I couldn't just take Hunter's word at first because he's lied &/or refused to talk about his dad's actions before. This is the sort of thing that you live with in families with such a history. You can be carrying along as usual, but then you are stopped cold with the what-ifs and fears. Reality point number three.

Birthdays: Hope Floats & Root Beer Floats

Destiny turned 11 (Happy Blogged Birthday, Destiny!), and we had our usual root beer floats. With this many birthdays in a row, we don't make cakes for each special day. (We'd be lucky to finish one before the next one needed to be baked.) So we do root beer floats. Equally tasty and special, especially for summer babies.

We had a relatively normal day, 'cept for the floats and a visit from Grandma Kathy and Grandpa Dave.

Destiny, like all kids, was eager for presents, but she knew she'd have to wait for Friday night when we travel to Wisconsin for the party there -- and for our party at the house on the 30th (for the North Dakota contingent). Both of these are cake events.

On Friday, after a 10 hour drive, we picked-up Hunter and went to my sister's to celebrate all three of the kids' birthdays, along with anniversaries, and Father's Day. My sister ordered a cake with "Happy Birthday, Anniversary and Father's Day" on it. All that was missing was the 4th of July. ;)

It was wonderful -- as it always is. My sister and her husband are wonderful entertainers in their home. They have a huge house that our kids always talk about on the way home. :sigh: We ate and ate and then opened presents and had cake. Then back to my parent's house to spend the night... From there it got interesting...

13 Ways To Celebrate Summer Reading As A Family

Thirteen Things about Summer Reading As A Family 1) Book recycling. Take your used books and donate them to your local library' 'friends' for a fund raiser, and be sue to check out books on too -- letting the kids know the valuable services that libraries provide. 2) Book Cycling. Take books along on your next bike ride. Bike further than you usually do, stop under a tree and read. Refreshed, head back home again. 3) Lead Read and they will follow. Take a book along outside when you supervise the kids with the sprinkler etc. Let them see you reading. 4) Get, and display, Library Punk Stickers. 5) Book recycling plan B. Have your own used book sale (or rummage sale) as a family, then take your money and go buy books at the rummage sales of others. Discuss how a book is only not worth anything if it's never read. 6) Lead Read and they will follow part two: Participate in summer reading programs -- parents match the children in their reading, book for book. 7) Stay up late: Each family member who can read takes turns reading aloud to the rest of the family. Make sure to make time for the family to discuss the story with, questions such as "What do you think happens next?" and "What's your favorite part so far?" 8) Use sibling rivalry to your benefit: Let the child who has done their chores first, etc. be the one to pick the book you read out loud together as a family. 9) Siesta for the soul. Make the hour after lunch reading time. (No arguments on waiting for the dip in pool with this plan, cuz they are with the program. *wink*) 10) Stay up late -- and educate. Read aloud to your children from works they wouldn't/couldn't read themselves. (We did this last summer with Canterbury Tales, and the kids really liked it.) Be sure to stop as need to explain words etc. they might not understand. 11) Actually take your tree, flower, bird or other field identification guide out with you on your next walk or outing. Help the kids learn to use guides for identification. (If you don't have one, check rummage sales -- I'm always finding them for less than $1.) 12) Include your children's friends in your trips to the library. 13) Popsicles and Puppets. Give the kids a frozen treat while parents use puppets read stories. Invite the neighborhood kids too. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!) Thursday Thirteen (#11) : Disneyland! Thursday Thirteen: June 13 Keeping Riley Busy This Summer Thursday Thirteen...Frog Edition Thursday Thirteen: Hell In Handbags Thirteen pictures I hope will make you smile. Thursday Thirteen--in lieu

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Another Birthday

My son, Hunter, turned 7 today.

I called him, and surprisingly was able to reach him (it never seems to occur to these people to have him call me on Mother's Day or any other events which would seem to warrant a phone call, let alone return a call when I leave a message).

It hurts not to be with him, especially today. But he sounded fine.

So "Happy Birthday, baby. We all love you!"

Thift Shop Fun

Today at a thrift store we discovered "Derick's Beanie Pole."


Of course my Derek (my husband) had to pose with it.


When I first met my husband, he swore his beanie pole would never be on the Internet -- I changed that *wink*

I Live Where Water Catches On Fire

You know I often mock where I live (most recent example)... But come on, when the water is flammable, well, even hubby has to mock it!

Weensy Pup

Rare photos of Ween, who, as mentioned before, is afraid of the camera. He honestly is afraid of them. Worse than the vacuum. It's like the magic box steals his soul...

The second Destiny left her blankie and pillows, Ween decided it was finders keepers and took her spot.


He was suspicious of the cell phone -- he's smart enough to know that something fishy's going on... But he hasn't quite figured out when it's a dangerous camera and when it's a non-threatening phone.



Ween must be almost 10 years old by now. Finally he can be called an old dog instead of folks just thinking he is because of his appearance as the grizzled old grandpa.

Destiny's Destiny

Destiny is starting to get some attention for her book review blog. She's just been asked to do reviews for GNM Parents, a Grasshopper New Media site for parents.

Destiny's still 10 years old, had the blog just three months, and already she's got real writing opportunities!

I'm proud of her -- and a bit jealous too :p

Birth Day

It's Allie's birthday today. She's 18 now and I'm haunted with dreams of rejection and loss.

We've all been invited to her group home for cake and a small celebration.

Re-read that sentence, please. Because that's just weird.

What parent gets invited to their daughter's 18th birthday party? At a group home? (Insert more self-pity here.)

Yes, we'll have a group party for the kids, like we usually do, in June. But the strangeness of this... Well, I'm going to have to buck-up some today, aren't I.

But right now, I think I should at least honor the fact that 18 years ago when I first held her I never saw this coming.

What Normal Isn't

Just a little melancholy... Derek's at work, Des is at her mom's for the weekend, Hunter's back in Wisconsin, and Allie's at the group home. I am alone, save for the critters -- and their fur. (I should vacuum, but that will wait.)

I am spending time reading all the family member blogs and looking at Destiny's Flickr page. It both helps and hurts to see all the kids there...

:sigh:

Allie turns 18 on Wednesday.

This is likely what all the fuss is about in my head. I told Derek I'd blog it out, but now that I'm here I am still resisting. It's hard to let go and just talking about it all makes it more real.

I know that most parents freak a little when the kids grow up and move out. Empty nest syndrome and all that. But this is different.

Allie is Autistic, and when you parent a special needs kid you are far more hands-on. Even at 5 days away from 18, and living away from me, I am more involved than most parents are with their kids who are say 6 -- or maybe even 12. I don't know. I don't know because I don't know what normal is in parenting.

Destiny's life is complicated. At nearly 11 she's dealt with more than the average divorced kid. She's got not one but two siblings with Asperger's. (Her half-brother and her step-sister -- boy do I hate those terms.) Her mom is a nut-job. And I'm not just saying that as the new wife talking about the old wife. I can't get into it all here... Or can I? But it needs to be said, spoken somewhere outside of Destiny's counselor's office. So let's just say that along with abandonment issues from her mother (and a few other incidents) Des has intimacy issues. Intimacy issues at 10? Yeah. That's true. Sad, but true. And her mom likely has Munchausen's Syndrome (and I'm not the only one to suggest it). Destiny's got complications, not normalcy.

Hunter, well he lives with his abusive father. (And there's documented proof of that.) Hunter's been safe physically so far (:knocks wood:), but emotionally, that's another story. It breaks my heart. Nearly 7, he's got to deal with transitions and problems past normal divorce as well as with his two complicated sisters. And a mom who lives so far away.

What's normal?

So when I contemplate Allie turning 18... Well, it's not just about her age, or the 18 years of work. It's about guardianship. Guardianship which is not mine.

Guardianship is an icky thing in general. It's not like when I first held her I fantasized about her future with others making final decisions for her. It's not like I rocked her to sleep (as best one can with an Aspie baby) with visions of her never marrying or having her own children in my head. Guardianship is horrific. Guardianship isn't normal. Guardianship is necessary.

But that doesn't mean I have to like it.

It's not that I don't want to be her guardian, but in long talks with the professionals in her life it just seems that the best thing for Allie, especially in the long term, is to have another person do this. Not just another person, but an agency.

The decision rested, finally, on three points:

A) When I die, Allie will not need to transition to a complete stranger. (The likelihood of both myself dying and her requiring a switch in guardianship staff is really slim -- even for a paranoid mom me.)

B) When I die, neither Derek, Destiny nor Hunter will be burdened with Allie's pleas to take her home with them. Hopefully the guardianship will buffer them all from the guilt as well as keep them, especially her siblings, from stopping their lives to take her in. (I'm hoping they'll all be family and visit each other, but no one should have to not have their own families because they've taken on the care of a sibling.)

C) This agency is well-connected and versed in legal and other practical matters which Allie will likely face. Housing will be an issue again at 21, and then there are the matters of Allie signing contracts -- contracts she legally may not sign, but which others may sue over or try to enforce. That's clearly above my head, but part of a professional guardian's regular experience.

The other professionals in Allie's life seem to think that having another guardian will make the relationship between Allie and I easier. I'll no longer be the 'bully keeping her from doing what she wants,' and just be mom. More like a friend. More like the independence most grown children experience from their parents.

I have no idea how that will work.

I mean I have that relationship with my parents, but to imagine Allie as independent? Independent from me? I have no idea what that would be.

While Allie no longer lives with me, I'm the first person she calls -- for nearly anything. I'm also the person school, the group home, the counselors, the doctor etc. all call. I'm deeply entrenched in her life...

And while there have been days, days I'm not proud of but will admit to, when I've resented my place, my role, the duties -- and the unfairness of this all -- I've never not been the go-to-girl for all things Allie.

When she moved out, when I no longer had the daily grind of parenting, I was uncomfortable. But between all the phone calls and the time spent with Allie, I still have that connection, that sense of, well, guardianship. Now, in less than two weeks, that will end. Or rather I should say that it's supposed to end, but I suspect it will shift somehow.

I imagine that the counselors and other professionals, and the school, will still call me. And I'll have new calls from the guardian. But my voice will not be the final one, The Law. After nearly two decades of advocating, fighting and explaining, of being the voice they must listen to (or making myself be taken seriously, as the case may be), I won't be it anymore.

That's a big adjustment for me. And right now I'm trying to help Allie with it, explaining what's going on and why, even if I've not processed it all yet myself. That's often the job of a parent, to help the kids first and then work through it on your own.

So at least that part's normal.