FireGirl Update

So you know what's been going on with Jason, so what about Jena?

Well, she's awesome as always.

She finished her swimming lessons about a month ago. After 6 short weeks she can float on her back unassisted, swim on her back unassisted (the entire length of the pool!), swim on her belly assisted, and flip from front to back unassisted.

She took private lessons thru our local YMCA, and we couldn't be more pleased. For her first lessons, we really wanted the survival stuff down, and that's exactly what happened.

Now we're trying to figure out what class she'll take next.

Preschool is going wonderfully. During the summer they have water play days as well as ice cream days, and they try to spend extra time outside, which I love. Especially since I've been busy at work lately, and sometimes am not getting home until time to start the bedtime routine. So at least I know she's getting a good amount of outdoor play, even if it's not with me.

They recently did her first real evaluation, using the Devereux Early Childhood Assessment (DECA), which is what the State of Kentucky uses as its standard. She did well, and scored above her current age in all areas. Which raises questions I'll address in another post.

Her writing is much clearer (ie. strangers can tell what the letters are, not just me), her picture drawing has suddenly improved by leaps & bounds, and she's beginning to read short words (some phonetically, some by sight). I anticipate she'll be reading no later than age 4.

She's really wowed us with her love of math & numbers. Something she surely didn't get from either of us, but maybe from one of her uncles (sales, sales, engineer), or her grandma (statistics major in college).

She's dealt with the death of her Papaw as well as you can expect a three-year-old. She's not talking about death as much as she had been, although she mentions her dead kitty almost daily. I imagine that's part of her processing it, and may possibly be a projection of her emotions about losing her grandfather. But overall... she's doing well with it.

We do think she's gearing up for another growth spurt. Although I would really appreciate if she would wait until cooler weather. Jena's growth has never really slowed down, and the result is that she gets an entire new wardrobe ever 3 - 6 months, and has since birth. I've already had to throw out some of the shorts I got her in the Spring, because she moved up a size. And now her belly is hanging out of the bottom of some of her shirts. And she's been eating like crazy the past week or so. But I am really gonna push it to try not to have to buy her 2 summer wardrobes this year. Please?!?

What Jena wants to be when she grows up changes frequently, but most often lands on "diver" or "firefighter". Other top favorites are "water rescuer", animal rescuer, and doctor.

Her favorite game is now to pretend to be the mom, while I'm the kid. Mostly because she gets to make the rules and boss me around. Three going on thirteen, I tell ya!

Anyway, in a nutshell she's awesome as ever and growing like a weed. Thanks for checking in!

Explaining Death to a Three-Year-Old

Well, if you've followed me for long, you might gather that we prefer the open & honest path to difficult subjects with Jena. Of course, we attempt to word things on her level, but we've never shielded her from difficult topics. Death is no exception.

Jena has attended every funeral we've gone to since she was born. She went to her first one when she was about 6 months old.

And of course, you may remember when her kitten met an untimely death.

So our daughter is no stranger to the topic. But still, she's only 3 yrs old. And... this is the first close person to her to have passed.

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When I got the phone call the night Papaw went into the hospital, Jena was with me. I told her Papaw (my FIL) was very sick and was at the hospital. His heart was very sick. But only adults could go where he was, so she would spend the night with Grandpa (my dad). We had to go fast, and please cooperate and do what I say, because this is an emergency.

Then I had to explain what "emergency" meant. She was proud of her new big word, and insisted on telling everyone that we had an e-mer-gency.

She told me Papaw needed to drink some more water (he always used to say that drinking water makes you better). She also told me that the doctor needed to take his "thing" and listen to Papaw's heart go "ba-boom, ba-boom". Smart kid.

I knew he had passed before we got to the hospital, but chose not to tell her that night. I knew there would be questions, and I knew she wouldn't want to leave me. So I met my dad in the parking lot of the hospital and handed her off, before heading in to be with Jason and the rest of the family (he had been on shift & so drove straight there).

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The next day my dad brought Jena to my mother-in-law's house, where we were. We intercepted them in the driveway, so she wouldn't come in & see all the other people, and the crying. My dad chose to leave immediately.

Our conversation went something like this (Jason & I did this together, but I don't remember who said what, so words in blue are both of ours):

Mommy & Daddy need to talk to you about something really serious, okay?
Remember last night when I told you Papaw was really sick? His heart was really sick?

nods

Well, he died. Papaw died.

Papaw died?

Yes, Papaw died.

Where he die?

(we knew this was coming, and Jason had prepared for it)

We walked her to the back yard, where Papaw had collapsed while working on the fence he was installing.

We showed her the spot.

Right here. Papaw was putting in a new fence, and he collapsed right here. The ambulance came to get him, but he was too sick, and he died on the way to the hospital.

long pause

If your heart no go ba-boom ba-boom no more, you die.

Yes, baby. If your heart stops going ba-boom, ba-boom, you die.
So Papaw's dead. He's in Heaven now, with God. He won't be here anymore.
Do you have any questions?

shakes head 'no'

Okay, well you let us know if you have any questions, or want to talk about anything, okay?

We went inside, where everyone immediately fell silent. Someone mouthed to me "does she know?", and I shook my head yes. Jena got down & started playing.

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A couple of hours later, we were eating dinner (yummy church lady food), on the back deck.

Jena asked her first question.

Papaw died...

Yes, hunny, Papaw's dead.

Will Daddy finish the fence?

Of course, baby. Of course, Daddy will finish Papaw's fence for him.

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Later that night, I was giving her a bath at my mother-in-law's house. Finally in a room alone, relaxed, the questions started coming. And then she asked for Jason, wanting to talk to Daddy about "dead" and "deading".

We talked a long time that night. I don't remember all of the conversation, but I do remember preparing her for the visitation & funeral, explaining that we would see Papaw one more time.

How we see Papaw? Papaw's in Heaven.

crap

Well, hunny, when you go to Heaven, you get a new body, that's not sick anymore, not hurt anymore, it's just perfect! So Papaw's in Heaven with his new body, but his old body is still here. When we go to the funeral we'll see his old body one more time.

She thought for a minute.

I think Papaw's in his new body dancing in Heaven.

Yes, baby, I bet he is.

At one point, I could tell she was conflicted. She looked as if she wanted to cry, but was holding it back.

And so, I explained.

It's okay to be sad, hunny. We can be happy for Papaw that he's in Heaven now, we can be happy for him that he got his new body and isn't sick anymore, but we can still be sad for us, because we miss him so much. That's okay.

I was crying before I finished. And so was she.

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Over the next few days, we talked a lot about Papaw in Heaven, in his new body, talked about his old body. Talked about being happy for him, being sad for us. I swear, I think she gets it better than any of us.

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We took her to preschool two days after Papaw died. I informed the teachers, and told them that we were open & honest with her, that we were Christians, so that is the direction our conversations come from, and that if Jena had any questions or wanted to talk, they were welcome to talk with her, as much as they were comfortable.

She went to her old babysitter's twice (three times? I don't remember), and we also informed them that they were welcome to talk to her if she wanted. We are very familiar with the family, and knew their beliefs were the same as ours, so just told them to be honest with her if she wanted to talk.

Same at church on Sunday. She went to her class as usual, and we informed the teacher.

She talked with the babysitter a little, but not with anyone else. And that's okay too.

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I could go on & on about the conversations we had with her the past few weeks. I really could. It's amazing to hear a three year old who seems to get it better than most adults.

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As always, thanks for checking in.

Ten Secrets

1. I got Tess even though Jason didn't want me to. Not my finest moment.

2. I poop every morning around 8am. That's new since after Jena was born. And there's a story, but I can't decide how much is too much to share.

3. Having worked in mostly-female, mostly-male, and fairly evenly mixed work environments, I also prefer working with men to working with women. Less drama.

4. I have no memory of my brother & I ever getting along. Ever.

5. I have no memory of ever being a weight society, or the medical community, would consider "healthy".

6. I still miss the cat I had growing up. She died in 1998. I cried over her just the other day.

7. I don't really have any IRL friends. Not really.

8. Except Jena. She's probably my best friend. Which is kinda awesome, and kinda sad.

9. I always wanted a cow. Like as a pet, not like as for food.

10. I'm not afraid of snakes, and I'm not afraid of spiders, but keep the creepy-crawlies (silverfish, millipedes, etc) away! Freak me out.

Spiritual Warfare

Okay, something I've never told anyone except Jason, is that the night Tess died, after... everything, and he had let me take a shower while he took care of... stuff, there is something I remember so clearly.

I had just come out of the shower, the shower I had sobbed through. I leaned against the bathroom wall, lacking the strength to hold myself up, still sobbing, and I cried out to God "WHY?!? Why did you let this happen? Why? Of all the pets, why Jena's?!? WHY?!?"

And a still, small voice responded "I'm saving your marriage"

I shutup, but I definitely did not understand how that was gonna accomplish anything. And quite frankly I was probably dehydrated from the vomiting and the crying, and I was tired and grief-stricken, and still a little bit in shock, so... I probably made that up, right?

Even though that scenario doesn't make much sense either. I mean, I don't think any of the farthest recesses of my brain could have even made up a way that Tess's death could save our marriage. I mean... really. C'mon.

Fast forward about two months. Jena announces one day that she saw Tess the night before.

Since she was a toddler, and often confuses how long her past tense has been, I said "Yes, you saw Tess a few months ago"

But she insisted that it had been just the night before.

Humoring her, and thinking that maybe she had a dream, I gently reminded her that Tess had died, and asked her to tell me about how she saw her.

She told me she was missing Tess, so she asked God to show her to her, and He did.

Well, shut my mouth.

Apparently the three of them (God, Jena, and Tess) played in Jena's room for a majority of the night. She did seem more tired than usual.

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Breaking in to answer a couple of questions:


- yes, at this point I think she's probably had a dream
- assuming it really happened, no, I don't actually believe that animals go to Heaven when they die. But I do believe in a Heavenly Father that loves all the little children, and I do think that maybe, just maybe, if a little girl were in mourning, and asked to see her beloved pet cat in order to be comforted, He might just do so

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God and Tess repeat their visits to Jena over the next several nights. I'm starting to believe these are not dreams.

And inside, I'm groaning for my child. And gearing up for spiritual warfare.

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Why? Because there were some things that happened a week or two prior to this, that combined with this made it apparent that my daughter shares my... gift.

And I know how difficult that can make her life.

And I know that while she is this young, this tiny innocent child, she has a certain amount of protection from Satan's forces. And once she accepts Christ, she is protected. But there will be a time from when she reaches accountability until she accepts Christ as her Saviour that she is open to attack.

So momma is putting on the armour, getting ready for battle.

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The next day, Jena tells me she played with Tess again. I asked where God was. She said Tess came alone.

Something inside of me twisted, and I felt physically ill.

Call it mother's intuition, call it gift of discernment, call it whatever you want...  I knew immediately, this was wrong.

At this point I silently prayed and asked God to provide a hedge of protection around each one of us... pets included (after Tess, how could I not?), and our home, our entire property, to prevent any evil spirits from entering our home.

The next day, again... Tess had come, alone, again.

I told Jena... no more. It was not okay that Tess was coming by herself. That she lived with God now, and if God wanted her to come, He would have come too. That I don't want Jena playing with Tess anymore, by themselves.

She seemed to understand.

And I think on some level she must have said "no".

Because then the real fun began.

Ever have your toddler tell you she's angry because there are so many people in the car she can't see out the window? And it's only the two of you?

And the reason they're there is because they can't get into our house (see prayer above - prayed silently, remember, so Jena didn't hear me) and they think that if they ride in our car they can ride into it?

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In the meantime, things in our family were crazy, and stressed.

Our marriage was still in not-good-land. Jena was acting up, terrible two's gone haywire, and I was stressed and frustrated beyond belief. I felt like I was losing my mind.

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Every night I would pray that prayer of safety & protection around us and our home. And it did seem like things lessened... but never ended.

And I didn't understand why not. And I didn't understand why I was having to pray this prayer every night, and still God was only showing me minimal results, when it seemed so clearly this was spiritual warfare.

And then, one night, as I was begrudgingly beginning to pray, frustrated, tired, stressed... that still small voice.

"Ask and it shall be given to you. You're asking for the wrong thing. You're praying the wrong prayer."

And in that instant, I knew.

I had been asking God to keep any new spirits from coming into our home, onto our property. I never asked him to remove the ones that were already there.

And the second I began to pray, I saw a birdseye view of our entire property, and all the spirits dwelling there. Many of them outside the home. Several inside our house. Including one, huddled in our closet, against the wall separating our room from Jena's.

I prayed silently, until the end, when I commanded them all to leave in the name of Jesus Christ, which I whispered. And in that instant I saw them all, yanked up as though someone had jerked them from behind the neck, snapped away into nothingness at once.


Jena has never mentioned seeing Tess, or any apparitions of any sort, since that night.

As far as spiritual warfare goes, I can pinpoint that day, that night, that moment as a turning point for our family. Jena's behavior problems stopped almost instantly. That's the time when our marriage finally began its path to healing, something that has happened more quickly since that night than I would have ever thought possible just one year ago. The track of our entire family, including myself, as shifted. We are closer and stronger than ever. We are on a path, together, as one unit, instead of three individuals.

We won that battle. We were victorious. But the war isn't over yet.

Oh, wait. Yes it is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyPBVwOCYmM

(sorry, couldn't get it to embed - but it's worth following the link, I promise)

Not Just Another Blog Challenge #16 - The Worst Thing About Being a Parent

 

I think the absolute worst thing about being a parent has got to be seeing your child suffer.

I still remember clearly the needle-sticks they did to draw blood when Jena was a newborn, and how she would scream and cry, and I would try to stifle my cries.

Or when she had a staph infection that needed to be drained, which required the pediatrician to lance it, and then put immense pressure on the surrounding area, and I'm helping to hold her down and she's staring up at me like "why are you letting them do this to me?".

Or anytime she gets an owie whose pain doesn't go away right off the bat.

Or anytime she's sick, and it just has to run its course.

Or anytime she mentions Tess, and tells me how much she misses her (still), and asks me questions like WHY, and it tells me that somewhere inside, my little girl is experiencing her first dose of heartache.

The worse the suffering, the worse it is on the parents as well, but anytime my child suffers is definitely the very worst thing about being a parent.

Irresistable Cuteness

Besides just being cute, I feel the need to explain why this pic is soooooo awesome.

See, despite his tolerance of adults doing just about anything to him, Tucker ended up being not very tolerant of kids at all. Including Jena.

From the minute she, as in infant, started flailing her arms in his general direction, he was irritated. He initially responded by swatting at her, but after the first (and only) time he scratched her, and the subsequent claw covers that got put on his little clawies, he never did that again. So from that point on, he just avoided her. Ran, if need be.

But Jena? She loves him. Especially since Tess's untimely exit.

She asks for him to sleep with her. Wants to read to him. Generally thinks that he is the best cat ever.

While he just tries to avoid her, although I will say that on the occasions she spends the night elsewhere, he will go into her bedroom and cry as if he's trying to find her. And he does come into her bedroom every single night as I'm tucking her in, without fail. But he leaves with me, and pretty much really doesn't want her to touch him. Ever.

So, this past Spring when Jason & I walked into the living room one morning to find the above scene playing out on the couch... {{ happy sigh }}

And how could I not grab my camera?

Tucker is slowly becoming more tolerant of Jena. There have been a few of these cat-pillow moments. There have been moments of me having both of them lying on me at the same time. Or both of them sitting and / or lying together on the couch. He seems wary of, but okay with, her presence... until she moves.

As long as she's perfectly still, he's fine. The minutes she stirs, he's outta there.

But still. I love the idea of the two of them getting along. And I'd probably even be willing to give up my bedwarmer every once in a while if he ever wanted to sleep in her bed. Maybe.

Friday Fragments

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Work has been... interesting. I love my new boss. So far, things are great. But he's been out sick, so it's been a mix of him trying to learn the position, implement a few new things, and then just not being here.
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Need. To do. Chores.
With Jena being sick a couple of weeks ago, then me getting sick, and then my back going out last week... let's just say our house is badly in need of me getting things in order.

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I don't think I ever told you that my friend did come over a couple of Saturdays ago, and I did indeed learn to use a drill. Ends up it really is pretty easy. In fact, we're both convinced that it was more me not understand how all the settings work, than me not understanding what to do.

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So now I have a to-do list for myself of things I've wanted done around the house, but have been waiting for Jason to do, because I didn't know how to use a drill. The only problem is that I don't want to do it with Jena there, because she will want to help, and that's not safe, but I can't wait until after she's asleep because it's too loud. Hmph.

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And... learning that skill has given me a little boost of confidence. I think once I get a few of these drill-necessary projects done, I might just try to learn how to do something else & get at it.
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After typing that, I do seem to remember reading / hearing that once upon a time: to boost your confidence, learn a new skill. Yep, it works!

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I want to get another dog. Another protector dog, like Buddy. Or a gun. But with Jena... I figure a dog is a better bet.

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I swear I've been hearing coyotes the past few nights, and it scares the beejusus out of me. And Buddy is a great protector, and he's big, but he's only one dog, and if they're in a pack...

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Yes, we have three dogs. But little dog (Flopsy) and old & blind (Tootsie) aren't exactly helpful in actual defense situations.

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and Buddy is getting older. Something I try to ignore, but is true.

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Jena has been talking about Tess a lot lately. She misses her. She wants her. She was her friend. It makes me sad.

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And now she suddenly has a huge attachment to Flopsy. "Mommy, that's my dog" she'll say. Over, and over. Dear Lord, please don't let anything happen to that dog.

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As I typed this, I realized I have some new-ish readers, who don't know who Tess is, or what happened. If you're interested, here's the story. I also realized that new-ish readers won't realize why we don't just bring the dogs inside. The story pretty much answers that as well. At least, I think it does. It also helps to answer why the #1 priority on my drilling-project list is adding an additional dead-bolt to our front door. Again, to me it answers those questions anyway.

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Yes, I said "additional" dead-bolt. Yes, I still have issues from this. And probably will for a long time. Maybe I should write a separate post about it. I could probably fill up an entire post with the issues I have now, because of that night.

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I'm back on my vaccine soapbox, following a new policy at Jena's pediatrician's office. Of course, them implying that I'm uneducated didn't help either. Either way, I'm on fire about it, so expect a post or two on the topic. If I had time, I could churn them out right now. But alas, time is one thing I do not have right now.

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Oh, and I've decided June is Jodi-uses-her-new-benefits month. I'll be getting my first bonus, my first pay increase, starting on the 1st I now get vacation days, and Jena's new school is the workplace daycare / preschool.

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And with that, this very long Friday "Fragments", I bid you adieu. Have a great weekend!

Oh yeah, so how have I been dealing with the loss of FireKitty?

Okay, I guess.

It definitely seemed to affect me more than anyone else. Although Jena has started talking about her again. The other night we were saying our prayers at bedtime, and she said "Pray Tess feel good". I finished the prayers blubbering.

My mom said she's not surprised at how upset I got. She said it's "in me" to be that way. I've always attached myself to the animals I'm around.

It actually surprised me. I didn't realize how attached I'd gotten to Tess in the short nine months she was part of our family.

But... grieving is just par for the course, right?

The real issue I've had is with anxiety. I can still feel it, rising up in my chest, every time I drive home. Every time. It's worse if I'm driving home after dark, as it was dark when we got home that night.

I now get out of the car, lock the car doors, unlock the front door, go into the house, and do a quick survey of the house before I go back to get Jena out of the car.

If Jason is with us, he must go in first, before I'll even get out of the car.

And I think I'm driving him nuts asking, and re-asking, if he's checked the doors, checked the locks, etc.

I've always been good about locking doors myself, but now I'm fanatical.

Before I go out the back door, for any reason, I lock Tucker in the spare room, and then still exit & return as quickly as possible. Yes, even now that we have the underground fencing keeping the dogs from coming too close to the entranceway (by the way - Buddy & Flopsy understood the new perimeter right away, within a few hours).

Tucker has gotten shoo'ed away and yelled at more than once, if I catch him too close to any of the doors while someone is entering / exiting. Sometimes I think he does it just to freak me out.

Every now and then I have some horrific scenes roll through my mind's eye. Some of them what I imagine happened that night. Some of them anxiety-inducing visions of what I might find has happened to Tucker when I come home. I wish I could get these scenes out of my head.

I'm wary now of someone breaking in. Something I always had a small amount of anxiety about when I lived in the city or suburbs, but what I had never experienced in a rural area before. I was, in fact, before this happened, telling a "city boy" co-worker of mine how much more relaxed I am now that we live out in the country, how much more comfortable, how much less anxiety (he's exactly the opposite - it was an interesting conversation). But not so much anymore. It is quieter though, so strange noises are more easily heard, and identified.

I'm assuming hoping that this anxiety will fade with time. Although part of me hopes that it doesn't. It does make me much more diligent in our home security, especially with regards to Tucker.

So... that is how I'm doing. Dealing with it. Just not always well.

Thanks for checking in.

So What About the Dog ??

Well, right now it looks like we are keeping Tootsie.

Against my wishes.

My feeling is that having her in our household, on our property, is now a known threat to Tucker's safety.

We took steps to keep her separate from the cats, but something happened (we still don't know what), and the first chance she got she killed Tess, and went after Tucker.

To me, the best decision is to:
    - fulfill my responsibility to Tucker to take every step possible to keep him safe, by finding Hydrant a new home
    - fulfill my responsibility to Tootsie to take every step possible to make sure her new home is a good, loving, responsible one. With no cats. Ever.
    - for several reasons, acclimate Buddy & Flopsy to living primarily inside the home, but crated when we are not home

Jason disagrees. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You see, Tootsie is his dog. He's had her the longest, for eight years.
So I don't know that it's so much that he disagrees with my reasoning, as much as he can't bring himself to get rid of her.

I understand. I disagree, but I understand.

We talked argued about it last night. In short order our mature, reasonable discussion of possible solutions degraded into a childish exchange, just using big words to mask the immaturity. And just to be clear, we both fell into that.

His idea is to use our underground fence system to fence off all openings to the house, except one: the laundry room, which is where the dogs currently used to stay on nights it's too cold for them to be outside.
It's actually been cold enough (single digits) for me to bring them in the past two nights, but I can't bring myself to do it. The "what-ifs" won't stop running thru my mind.

He feels this will not only prevent Tootsie from getting into the house unexpectedly, but also keep gun-shy Buddy from damaging the doors trying to get in, come hunting season.

I agree that it is a good idea, and possibly still worth doing, even if we get rid of Tootsie, but the biggest problem is that we already had taken steps to separate the dogs from the cats, and while we were out, something had happened, and they got together. Something beyond our control. So what happens if the fence shorts out? Or we miss the battery on her collar running low? or there's some other malfunction?

I don't feel that it's worth the risk.

The risk of reliving that scene again. Or of that scene happening at a time when Jena comes home with us. Or that scene repeating itself (God forbid) in a time & place where we see it unfold, and maybe Jena sees something so... awful.

Or Jena gets a little older and decides that Tootsie wants to play with Tucker so brings Tootsie in the house, thru the laundry room. Or takes Tucker out into the yard so they can play. And then not only witnesses what happens, but lives with knowing that she did it.

Yeah. To me, that's not worth the risk.

To him, it is.

To him, those are all random "what ifs" that are very unlikely to happen. But after what Tootsie did to Tess the first time she had the opportunity, I see it more as a matter of time before the opportunity presents itself again. We can't be there all the time, we can't be everywhere, see everything.

He also thinks getting rid of another pet so soon after losing Tess would be too traumatic for Jena.

I think we need to remove the known risk from the household, to prevent the likelihood of an even greater trauma in the future.

But not only is it his dog, he is also the head of the household, so he will most likely "win". Although I decided from the beginning this is one of those things that no one "wins". It definitely feels like one of those situations where there is no "right" decision, where every possible solution, is a bad one.

As we went to bed, I asked him if he'd made a decision. He said he had not. I told him if he planned on keeping Tootsie, then I expected to see additional locks installed on the French doors, and the additional fencing installed around the house, like yesterday.
My husband & I are both world-class procrastinators, but I told him there would be no "next time I'm off, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year". Not with this. That if he decided to keep her, then his next day off I expect to come home from work to see the new locks in place and the supplies for the fencing purchased and the installation at least under very good progress, if not completed. And that if it couldn't all be completed in one day, it would be completed his very next day off.

Period.

I guess we'll see what his final decision is. But I think I already know. {{ sigh }}

How is Jena Handling the Loss?

Thankfully, Jena was not with us when we discovered that Tootsie had killed Tess. Jason & I had a late appointment with our physical trainer, and his mom had offered to keep Jena overnight. I really didn't want her to, but reluctantly agreed around 5pm that night. So glad I did.

I picked her up from the in-laws' house after work the next day. As soon as we left their driveway, I turned off her CD of children's worship songs and told her I needed to talk to her about something important, as I adjusted the rearview mirror so I could see her face.

I told her that the night before, while she was spending the night with Mamaw & Papaw, when Mommy & Daddy got home, we found out that while we were gone, something had happened and Tess had died. Tess was dead.

I asked her if she knew what "dead" meant, and she just stared at me. I told her that when someone dies, it means they are gone. Forever.

She paused.

Then began repeating:

"I spend night at Papaw's. Mom & Dad come home. Sumfing happen. Tess diiiieeeeeevvvvvvv"Over, and over, and over again. All the way to McDonald's (because Lord knows the child was getting whatever she wanted that night). I suppose repeating it was her way of processing the information.

At McDonald's, when I saw that our food was dwindling and we would be leaving shortly, I told her I just wanted to make sure she understood that Tess had died, and was gone. That when we got home, Tess would not be there.

She repeated the phrase again.

"I spend night at Papaw's. Mom & Dad come home. Sumfing happen. Tess diiiieeeeeevvvvvvv"

Then she looked up at me, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Mommy! Ask Tess what happen!"
{{ insert heartbreak here }}

Just the way she said it. Like she had just thought of the most brilliant idea. We'll just ask Tess  what happened.
So I explained that we can't ask Tess, because, remember, she's gone. She's not going to be at the house. Ever again.

Jena seemed to ignore me, and went on playing with her toy that she had gotten with her Happy Meal. And then it was time to leave. And she threw a world class tantrum. Throwing things, lying on the floor, the whole bit. And I was by myself. So gathering food, throwing away a tray, collecting things that had been thrown, getting a coat on a flailing toddler... well, these things take time.
So I really didn't appreciate the glares I started getting from other customers. And then from the manager. I mean really?!? Can't you see I'm by myself here, trying to get her out of the restaurant. I suppose I could have left our food on the table, but I'm sure that would have drawn a glare or nasty comment as well. Or left the things she'd thrown on the floor, but again, another glare or comment. Or not taken the time to try to get her coat on. But it was 18 degrees out, and she's two, so... yeah, I'm gonna take the time. Geez! Cut a mother a break.

Anywhoo, I digress. I told her again a few minutes into the drive home. I just really wanted her to understand that Tess was not going to be at the house. As much as she could understand.

And so, we pulled into the driveway and I turned off the engine and turned to look at her.

"I just want to make sure you understand that Tess died. She's not here anymore. She's gone. We only have one cat now. Just Tucker. Okay?"

"Mommy, Tess hidin'"

"No, Jena, Tess isn't hiding. She's gone. She's just not here anymore, not here anywhere, okay? Just Tucker now. No more Tess."

"Tess sum-wer (somewhere)"

I paused. There was one way to handle pet death that I hadn't wanted to go, but Jason had (he was working, so I won by virtue of being the one who had to do it). But maybe I should say it now. Now that she had said "somewhere".

"Jena, Tess is in Heaven. When pets die, that's where they go, they go to Heaven. Do you know where Heaven is? Heaven is where God lives. So since Tess died, she's living with God now. And He's gonna keep her, okay? She's gonna live with Him, and He's not bringing her back. She lives with God now."

 No response.
We got out of the car, and went into the house. She started walking around, mumbling something. I couldn't really make it out, although I did hear "God" repeatedly.

And then... she became obsessed with Tucker. She wanted him to play kitchen with her. She tried to read books to him. She wanted him to sleep in her bed. And she talked about taking him to the sitter's house the next day.

Sweet girl.

A couple of hours later, while eating her snack, she looked at me and very matter-of-factly said:

"Mommy! Go pick Tess up now! She hidin'."
"Hunny, she's not hiding. I can't pick her up, because she's gone, remember? She's not here anymore. Ever."
 
And that was it for that night. When I tucked her in, and we were saying our prayers, I said a special prayer thanking God for the time we had with Tess, and for what a blessing she had been in our lives the short time she was with us.

The next morning, no mention of Tess at all. Until we were leaving. We have a habit of saying goodbye to the cats when walking out the door.

"Goodbye Tucker! Have a nice day! We'll see ya later!"
"Bye-bye Tucker! Bye-bye Tess!" {pause} "Nope. No Tess."
 
She continued walking out the door. I, however, started bawling. I have taken very strong efforts to not cry about this in front of Jena. I don't want her to feed off of my emotion, I want her to have her own reactions to this event in her life. But this time, I lost it. We got in the car, and drove to the sitter's.

And that was that. That evening, we cut our nails before bathtime. First Jena, then mommy, then Tucker's claws.

"Do Tess nails!" she exlaimed excitedly.

"I can't, hunny, remember? Tess's gone."

She mentioned her again this morning. She was singing, and kept saying Tess's name over and over. I couldn't really make out the rest of the words.

And that's the last time she's mentioned her. I keep waiting for her to start looking for Tess. Or to call for her. Or to ask me questions. I keep waiting for it, but so far it hasn't happened.

She seems to be handling it very well. Much better than I am, anyway. I'm still a mess.

Scenes from a Horror Film

**WARNING** this post contains content that some readers may find disturbing. Read at your own risk.

Do you ever feel like you're living a scene from a movie? And even after it's over, it seems like it couldn't have really happened? Like it must have been a movie? And you can actually almost see yourself from the outside, like you're watching the movie?

*********************************

Like when you come home at night, and you're gathering some items from the car to bring in while your husband goes inside, and then he comes back out and yells to you that the dogs were in the house?

And you're confused, and you're like "What do you mean the dogs were in the house? How'd they get in?", and you actually chuckle, because it's not like your dogs grew opposable thumbs the two hours you were gone.

But he yells back "I don't know, but all three dogs were in the house".

And you shake your head and walk toward the house, confused, puzzled at how this could have happened, when all at once that confusion just doesn't matter any more and the how doesn't matter any more as the realization of what this really means sinks in.

It means that your cat-agressive dog has been loose in the house, unsupervised. With the cats.

 You push thru the front door and drop the items you'd gathered from the car on the floor and scream to your husband "Where are my cats?!?"And he looks at you and says plainly "I don't know"

And then you begin hyper-ventilating, and repeating over and over again "where are my cats? where are my cats? where are my cats?" and you nearly collapse on the floor, but do manage to get your feet under you in time to stumble to the garbage can to vomit.

And by this time your husband has locked the dogs in the laundry room, and informed you that the back door was wide open when he came in, and that you need to get it together to find the cats, because you're the only one they'll come to, and they could be fine, they could be hiding in the house, or could be outside somewhere, but you have to find them, because you are the one they trust.

And you remember that your male cat, when he got out at your old house, would hide under your deck, so you go out the back door, and look around, and down the steps, and around to the front of the deck so you can bend down to look under it.

And then you see an unusual... shape... a few feet away.

And you don't want to look, but it could be anything, and you have to get it together because you have a responsibility to these cats to find them. They could be fine. Or they could be injured, and need help. So you cannot not look.

But it's really dark out, living out in the country like you do, and so you have to take a few steps closer, and still your eyes are struggling to adjust, and then you see...

And you hear yourself let out a wail as you stumble a few feet away, and then you sink onto the snowy ground and you know you are yelling something, but you don't know what.

But your husband does hear you and comes running out the back door and yells "What?!?" and you look up at him, and point to the lifeless body of your female cat, your daughter's kitten, as you cry out "They killed her!"

And he says "You have to get up. You have to find the other cat". And you know he's right, so that's it, you're composed, you're on a mission.

You meet your husband on the deck. He hugs you. He asks if you want him to bury her. You tell him yes, but make sure it's somewhere the dogs can't dig her up. He tells you to check the spare room for the male cat, because that's the room the cat-aggressive dog walked out of when he came in.

Then you walk past him to go inside, and you see it for the first time. How you didn't see it before, you don't know, but there it is.

Blood.

On the floor of your fireplace room, just a few feet from the back door.

It happened in the house.

You pause for only a second before moving thru the house, calling out to your male cat.

You push open the door to the spare room, and there he is, sitting, frozen, staring at you wide-eyed, filthy, having just crawled out of a vent in the floor.

As you go to move toward him, he moves toward the vent. He's still scared terrified.

You leave him alone, shutting the door so you'll know where he is and he can feel some security.

You go back to the deck to find your husband, walking past the blood once again.

You can barely see him, he's so far away, almost in the woods. With a shovel in his hand.

You stare at him, frozen at the scene. He yells to you "Did you find him?!?"

At first it's all you can do is to nod, then you yell back "He's okay, I think he's okay"

And then, now that your mission is complete, and your adrenalin is beginning to subside, the emotions come flooding back, and you collapse in the snow on the back deck, sobbing so hard you can't breathe, your chest hurts.

You're not there long, as your  husband comes as soon as he finishes his task, and pulls you up from the snow, he gives you a light hug, then turns to direct you in the house, telling you to find your cat, go hold your cat.

You go, pointing to the blood as you walk past it once again and mumble something about how you really need him to take care of that please.

And the rest of the night is spent in shock and mourning, over-reaching grief, confusion, disgust, sadness, and... heartache.

The kind of heartache where your chest actually hurts.

Not only because your beloved pet has died...

    ... but also because you now have to explain to your two-year-old that her cat is gone, forever.
    ... and because you know that this night sealed the fate on at least one of your dogs


*********************************

My God, I wish I didn't know that scene either. Lord, do I wish that.

Jena told her first real lie yesterday

Uh oh. We're in for it now.

I mean, she's told stories before, and she's a great actress, which I consider play, but yesterday..

She was drinking milk out of her sippy in the car driving to meet my parents at my work. Shortly before arriving she started saying "uh oh" and pointing to her lap.

When we got there, and went to get her out of the car, I asked what was wrong & she pointed to her lap.

Me: Oh, did you spill milk on your skirt?
Jena: Nope
Me: You didn't? But there's milk on your lap
Jena: {looks down}
Me: It's okay. No big deal. Did you spill milk on your skirt?
Jena: Nope
Me (starting to smile): You didn't?
Jena: Nope
Me (trying not to smile too much): But there's milk on your skirt. How did it get there?
Jena: Tess
Me: Tess?
Jena: Yep
Me: Tess spilled the milk on your lap?
Jena: Yep.
Me: Okay.

So, yep. Somehow Tess, who was not even in the car, managed to spill Jena's milk on her lap. I was cracking up. Couldn't help smiling at my little fibber. It was just so funny & cute to see her thinking things thru. She definitely didn't want to fess up to it, and you could practically see the moment when she decided to blame Tess.
But oh... we're in for it now.

And so is Tess. As Jena's pet, I get the feeling she'll end up being Jena's primary scapegoat.

Poor kitty.

Tucker got out!

Tucker got out the other night. And it terrified me.

I came home around 9pm, and walked in the door with my arms full, and he snuck out between my legs. By the time I put Jena down and turned around, he was in the neighbor's yard, being chased by the neighborhood cat. I went out and tried to get him. They were on the verge of fighting. The neighborhood cat didn't see me and I snuck on him and stomped on the ground next to his head, thinking he would run off & I could grab Tucker & take him home.

Nope.

Oh, the neighborhood cat ran. But Tucker also ran, in the opposite direction. I followed him into the next yard, but he kept going. And Jena was in the house alone so I couldn't go any further.

I called Jason, who was at a water rescue meeting. So when he came home he drove around the neighborhood  looking for Tucker. Then he walked around the neighborhood looking. No luck. He came in, and I took a turn, and walked the entire neighborhood looking for Tucker. No luck. I came home & sat on our porch thinking if I was quiet and Tucker saw me there he would come up to me.

Nope. After a few minutes I started crying.

This is my baby. My baby boy. I've had him for 4 1/2 years, after adopting him from the local shelter. And he's not been outside since. It's now 11:30pm, and there's not much more we can do. I'm scared to death for him, and try to console myself by reminding myself that he's really big, and he has all his claws so at least he can defend himself.

I go inside. We go to bed, me somewhat reluctantly. We're lying in bed, and I'm looking out the window, which faces the front of our house, mentally making a list of everything I'll need to do the next day if he's not back in the morning: contact the local shelter, contact the microchip company, make up some lost posters, post lost ads on CraigsList, Facebook, etc.

About a half an hour later, I still can't sleep, and I look up to see a little white head poke out from under our car.

It's him!

I jump out of bed, run down the hallway to the front door, and look out. He's looking at me, but still hiding under the car.

I open the door to go get him, and the minute the door opens he bounds across the yard & straight into the house!

I was so happy! So relieved.

And it was so cute. The first thing he did was go up & lick on Tess. So cute.

Ever since he's been extra cuddly & wanting extra attention. I was hoping that meant he learned his lesson, but he's also been running to the door anytime I go near it, like he wants to go out again.

Not if I can help it.

I'm just so thankful that he came back. And so soon!

So thankful. And so relieved.

Stupid Cat

Good job, Tess. Got me all attached to you, and then gave me a health scare.

Tess has had blood in her stool since yesterday. I called the vet this morning, and they said "She needs to be seen today. Can you be here at 2 o'clock?" That's never good.

All I could do to keep from crying all morning. She's so young. I just couldn't help but think of the worst case scenario. I even called Jason to ask what my max budget was for her treatment.

So we get to the vet and... they can't find anything wrong with her. But it can be pretty serious, so they put her on three different meds as a precaution. And the vet said he would personally call me in two days to see who she's doing. So I'm glad they didn't find anything wrong. And I'm glad that they're playing the better-safe-than-sorry route. But I'm also still a little worried. And even though they didn't find anything wrong, I'm so glad I took her in. Obviously it's serious enough to be taken, well, seriously.

Why do we get attached to these animals? Ugh. Stress. Worry.

Love.