Birthdays in our house are a big deal... not in terms of gift getting, but it's the one day a year where everything goes your way. You get to have whatever you want for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You are exempt from chores and the spotlight is on you the entire day. John will argue that I "hate" his birthday and that I always end up yelling and in a fitful state, kind of like when he is sick. That is not true. I don't hate his birthday, it just happens to fall at a super inconvenient time of the year when our lives are the busiest. That's not my fault. His mother should have planned things better in terms of what time of year she had her baby. Anyway, our kids are always top dog on their birthdays. In a family of six, the spotlight isn't focused solely on you very often so I try to just give them that one day where it is. And they absolutely love their birthdays!
On Emma's tenth birthday, she asked for a hamster. I said "NO!", but as many of my friends and family members know, I often lose the battle of the pets to a husband who loves animals and loves to get them for our kids. To date, we have had a snake (dead), a sugar glider (dead), two poison dart frogs (one dead one sold back to the pet store), two cats (one confirmed dead and one brought to the SPCA for constantly peeing on my new basement carpet... so likely dead), two dogs (one dead and one who will be if he keeps peeing in my house... ok, Chessie is 8 and a wonderful dog that we love. I'll at least say that.), lizards (dead), multiple fish (dead), a bearded dragon (alive but I don't know how since Will only gives him crickets once in a blue moon). So when Emma asked for a hamster, the humane part of me said "Not happening." I've also heard that hamsters stink and stay awake all night running in their wheels and keeping everyone up. BUT, since Emma asked her dad, and her dad can't resist any request from Emma, the two of them set out last year to get a hamster on her birthday. I don't think hamsters are a big seller on Valentine's Day so they were back very quickly with a new baby hamster and the works to go with it... cage, ball, bedding, water thingy. Without batting an eyelash, Emma named him Elvis, which was so appropriate given her fascination with Elvis Presley and her Elvis themed birthday last year. I have to admit, much as I do not like rodents, and hamsters are no exception, the little guy was so tiny and cute. Emma spent hours the first few days holding him and coddling him. I figured this would soon end and she'd forget she had a hamster and the thing would stink up her room. But that did not happen.
All year long, Emma really took care of Elvis. She cleaned his cage without being asked, held him, talked to him, made arrangements for him when we went away on vacation. For Christmas, she asked Santa to bring him some accessories for his cage so he could have a little variety and something fun to play with. Good old Santa apparently can't say no to Emma either. Soon Elvis had a cage that could have been featured on MTV's "Cribs". And to give credit to Will, I do think he fed Phoenix, his bearded dragon, on Christmas. As for Elvis, if one could truly LOVE a hamster, then Elvis was loved.
I was in the kitchen last night as the kids were getting ready for bed. I was checking e-mail on my phone when I heard Emma come in and softly say "Mom" I half-heartedly replied without looking up and answered "Hmm?" She just stood there. I looked at her and she said "Elvis is dead." She wasn't crying and didn't have much of any expression at all so I said "Emma, seriously, are you joking?" Elvis keeps me up many nights banging around in his cage and the night before was no exception. He was eating string cheese out of her hand last night in the kitchen. "No, I'm not joking mom. I went to hold him and he was just lying in his cage and when I picked him up, he was so cold. He's dead mom." I saw her face begin to crinkle up and her eyes fill with tears. I immediately realized she was serious and I opened my arms. This little eleven year old suddenly wasn't so little. I have never seen Emma grief stricken. When Mitch died, she was just turning five and at that age, there is no comprehension of death's finality. Emma is not a child that cries easily. When she was younger, getting yelled at usually prompted a glare, not a cry. She is pretty stoic when it comes to sadness and I never really know how she will react to real grief. Last night I found out. She put her arms around me, buried her head under my arm and sobbed like I have never heard her do. Her little body shook as she cried. I just stood there, holding my precious girl thinking about the irony of it all and wondering why the hell Elvis couldn't wait just one more day. Why on her birthday? She had had such a perfect day. I also realized that nothing had prepared me for the realization that my kids are experiencing "adult" emotions when it comes to loss. It was awful to know I could do nothing to ease her grief. And I know that she will wake up this morning and ache to see Elvis in his cage, curled up in a ball and innocently sleeping after a wild night of keeping me up.
Now for the concerning part... if you think I have a hard time seeing my daughter in pain, imagine what John felt. He walked in the kitchen and I could see it in his eyes... we are going to end up having 3 baby hamsters by the end of today. I just KNOW it. How do I know this? Oh, I just do. And I fear I can do nothing to stop it.
It was interesting to see his reaction to Emma. You see, my girls hang the moon in John's eyes. They really do. And John is a pretty sensitive guy anyway and a guy who loves animals and critters. As a matter of fact, Elvis wasn't fully dead when he brought him down. He was motionless and cold and definitely on his way out, but he would take an occasional breath. I was thinking "Just put the poor thing out of his misery already." But no, John put Elvis in his shirt pocket, where it was warm. He probably thought the combination of warmth and the sound of a human heartbeat would magically cure this near dead hamster. John proceeds to walk around with Elvis in his pocket for awhile. He then brings him over to our vent and wraps him up, no lie, in Emma's fleece heart blanket and places him near the vent in our room, where he remains as I type only three feet away from me. And I'm not checking his pulse this morning. God help me if Elvis were to move or something. I would freak out.
Last night it also occurred to me how grown up Will is. He reacted very much like John. He was quiet and stayed kind of out of the way. He watched Emma and I could tell he just didn't know what to say to her. I could tell he felt so bad for her but just didn't know what to do.
I have lots to think about on my run today. These solo days are when I really get deep into my head and pick apart what's going on in my life. Today will likely bring a few tears as I think about Emma's grief, Will's maturity, John's tenderness and the prospect of a houseful of baby hamsters... God help me!
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| Baby Elvis and Emma... February 14, 2011 |
