My bucket list?

These last couple of days there has been a recurring conversation, or rather conversations, around me.  Mostly about things people want to do before they die.  Seems morbid, in a way.  But also kind of hopeful in another.  Having goals to achieve.  Whether they are exciting or not, they mean something to the person putting them out there.  On this train of thought, I'm doing this post a little differently.  It's my list of things that I would like to see happen, or hope they will happen, in my lifetime.  I haven't written all of them down, because there are things that are still very personal.  A bucket list, as they are being called these days.

I want to be a grandma.  Seems pretty far off right now, but it's there.  If my children wish to have children, I want to be around to enjoy them.

I would really like to go to Scotland.  My great grandfather, James Lindsay Ewing was born in Sterling Castle in Scotland.  I want to go there.

I want to take my family to China.   Jim was born there and I would really like my kids to see where their dad, aunts, uncles, and grandparents came from.  I also really want to see the Great Wall.

I want to see my kids graduate.  Not for me, but for themselves.  To see them realize that they can do anything they put their minds to.

I want my kids to realize failure.  They will learn that they can fail and then pick themselves up and carry on.

I want to know that I taught my kids what it means to make choices and how to make them for themselves.  Good, bad, or ugly.

I would love to do a road trip across Canada with my family.  Chows on an adventure.

It's not a very long list or even all that interesting as I sit here and re-read it, but these are things that I think about when someone asks, “what would you wish for?”

Going deeper, I hope to show my kids what it means to have faith, to believe in a God who is bigger than they are.  To be moral, upright people who want to be of service to others.  I want for them to be content in all they say and do.  Even in the not so great times, to be content.  Happiness is great, but I think contentment can bring greater joy that is more lasting.  And on that note, I am so grateful and content with all that I have.  If something else comes along, then that's a bonus.

I took my kitty to church . . .

It feels as though I have a fourth child.  The amount of care Clement (he's a boy, so it can't be Clementine) needs is almost equivalent to a child.  Granted, a child growing in fast forward, because this week we tried litter (potty) training.  It didn't go so well – more to follow shortly.

I warm kitten formula every two to three hours and bottle feed him.  He needs to be washed with warm cloths in stroking motions like a momma cat would do it.  When I do it, he purrs and it's lovely.

He's starting to interact with the kids.  Playing and biting (he's teething) and swatting at them.  They think it's hysterical.  He gets himself rolled over onto his back and then it's all four legs and his tail going in five different directions.  He snuggles into warm spots and get comfortable, usually causing giggles with the kids because he's made his way into an armpit.

We took him to church with us.  Smiling and laughing.  I'm thirty-six and I took my kitty to church.  It's funny, really it is.  I have never, ever, done this, ever in my life.  Nor did it ever cross my mind that I would ever do this.  But I did.  There's a reason.  He has to be fed frequently.  We attended church services and then planned to visit Jim's mom.  Knowing we were going to be out of the house for the better part of the day, I did not feel that leaving him home alone to get hungry was much of a choice.

So, I took my kitty to church.  I left him in the nursery in his little box, snugged in all nice.  Checked on him a few times and fed him just before services were over.  This meant that when everyone was dismissed I was holding him sleeping.  The looks on the kids' faces when they realized he was real was just the best.  Most of the kids, and a number of adults, had never seen so small a kitten.  It was really neat to be able to facilitate that for them.

Then we took him to see Jim's mom.  Oh, to see her face light up like it did.  Wonderful!  Truly wonderful.  She had pets as a child and so for her it was like going back to that place where she was with her parents and family and the memories were good.  My heart was set to smiling.

Litter (potty) training is going to be interesting.  Thanks to my mom for the pointers after the fact.  I tried to put Clement directly into the box we’d set up for litter purposes.  He promptly stuck his face in the litter and ate up a huge mouthful of clumping cat litter.  Like he hasn't got enough issues with regards to his bowels and bladder.  I have to rub his tummy and back to get him do his business and it's a process, I tell ya.  With the dietary changes that went on in the first two weeks, he's still adjusting.  Add in a tummy full of grits and we got ourselves a good time – not.  So there I was trying to pick grit out of his teeth and get a bottle of water ready for him to drink.  Clumping cat litter is almost like cement – a little bit of water and you've got a chunk of mess.

I have a feeling, that, if he continues to thrive, he's going to be a very big cat.  I keep telling Ryan, “be nice to your little brother.”  He just laughs.  I told him that Clement is going to remember how he's being treated and if it's not gentle and kind, he'll grow into a cranky kitty.  It seems to be working.  The girls just want to be little mommas.

I am so thankful for this little addition to our family.  He's certainly taking up space in my heart.  I am so grateful for this opportunity to teach my kids that little bit extra in terms of compassion and gentleness. 

Kitty Heaven?

My garden has gone through a few changes.  It has me drawing parallels between how I take care of my kids.  Are they a reflection of each other?  Am I doing enough to grow my kids into emotionally, spiritually, and physically fit people?

We had a blip (trauma) in our week that had my kids asking some really hard questions that I wasn't sure I wanted to answer.  Make that, maybe I didn't want to answer because I don't have all the answers and I was afraid.  There is that word – afraid, fear, scared.  So many thing I don't do because I am afraid. Of what?   Is that a scratch the surface for the answer or a have to dig really deep?  And sometimes I like to take the easy way.  It means I can skirt around the yucky stuff – at least for a little while, because eventually it catches up to me.

So growing a garden and growing kids.  They need a lot of tending.  Soil needs prepping, weeds need to be pulled, you have add fertilizer, make sure you plant in appropriate places, prune.  The list goes on.  With kids, they need lots of tending too.  You work to prepare their hearts to receptive of the lessons you want them to learn.  You do your utmost to curb them of inappropriate behaviours.  By your own example you help them to grow.  Moments show themselves as opportunities to guide and teach.  And by steady direction – verbally or non-verbally – you get them growing in the right direction.

This past week, one of the little kitties we were taking care of died.  My kids' hearts were broken.  The devastation they experienced was like nothing they've ever gone through.  Jim walked through the door at the end of his day and was met with incoherent and inconsolable children.  They were crying so hard they could hardly talk and he had no idea what going on.  Through my own tears I explained to him what had happened and could he please help by digging the hole.

Upon first discovering that little Chrysanthemum had died I had to try and find the right words.  This is not an easy task.   I couldn't try and make it all fluffy and nice.  I feel that if I had tried to do that I would be doing my kids a real disservice.  All my growing up years I have been taught that animals do not have souls, and therefore, do not go to heaven.  So how do I find a middle that is acceptable for myself and tender for them to help them cope.  And then thinking, this would be great time to get into my bible to learn for myself.

Ryan's first question was, “mommy, can we have a funeral?”  My response was “of course.”  I set about finding a small box and some soft cloth.  Then it was each of the kids wanting to touch and stroke and kiss the kitty goodbye.  Can we get any more heartbreaking?  I asked each of them in turn, “are you ready for mommy to put the lid on?”  Got the okay and then I couldn't get the box in the hole.  Jim didn't dig it deep enough.  Cue internal hysterical laughter.  So there I am trying to get this done and the kids are sobbing and I can smell barbeque so I know the neighbours are out.  It was going from bad to worse.   I'm sure the neighbours were thinking “what in the world is going on over there?”  I finally got the hole big enough and then they each wanted one more chance to kiss and touch and say goodbye.  Lid off one more time and questions one more time and relief – it fits in the hole.  Flowers laid, picked from my garden, and let's go inside and have hot chocolate.

Ava's memory of our evening, “I'm sad.  Our kitty died and we had a funeral and then mommy made hot chocolate with marshmallows.”  Ryan just wants another kitty.  Ella's not saying too much.  She keeps things pretty close.

Back to hard questions though.  Ry just kept peppering me.  “What will happen to the kitty?”  “Is it going to rot?”   "What if the worms eat it?”  I was trying to explain ashes to ashes and dust to dust and decomposition.  I used a banana as an analogy. Starts out green, gets a bit yellow, then brown, and then mush.  It was the best I could come up with.   In the end, I just said to him that God takes care of all of us.  If He's doing that, then He's also taking care of all the animals, little kitty included.  Then he threw the, “will great grandma and uncle Levi help take care of the kitty?”  And I said, “Well, I suppose if they had the opportunity they would take very good care of the kitty, but God is looking after it.”  And I got an “okay, mommy.”

I should say I am grateful that this happened and that my kids can learn that animals die and it's really sad, but we are all going to be okay and it's not going to hurt forever.  In my head they seem like the right words, but in my heart, I'm not ready for them yet.  I am grateful that my kids are pretty resilient.  It seems they have taken things in stride and are moving on, that's good thing.  I'm also grateful that we still have Clementine to focus our attentions on.

New little family members . . .

I have babies in my house.  Yep, I'm a new mommy to two little kitties who are 13 days old.   I got suckered.  My bleeding heart, look at life through rose coloured glasses, take care of those unable to take care of themselves, suckered.  When my mom called me on the brink of tears, distress almost palpable through the phone lines, I said yes.  And now, I am wondering how I am going to part with these two little babies who have clawed my hands to shreds and wiggled and purred their way in to that place in my heart reserved for soft, cuddly, little beings that need my help.  Seems I've kind of got it bad.

Two weeks ago my parent's cat birthed six little babies.  The first one did not make it.  It was, according to my mom, not a normal size.  It's head was over large and she thinks that momma cat may have sat on it as it's spine was at an angle that it should not have been.  Almost eight hours later, she birthed five more little babies.  Four days post birth she disappeared.  It's possible she suffered some internal injuries and just left to die quietly.  It's also possible that an owl had breakfast or a coyote had lunch.  However it happened, it's sad.  Mom and dad realized by end of day five that momma was not coming back and quickly stepped in with bottles and syringes to feed them.  Both of my parents work full time, so there was no way that they were going to be able to feed the kitties every two to three hours as they were going to need.  Mom put the call out to my sister and I and we answered.

As a mom, any baby in distress sets my heart to aching.  I want to just wrap them up in my arms and make it all better.  Obviously, that will never happen, but when and where I can, I will.  So here I am, with two babies.  They need their faces washed and their tummies rubbed, bottles and syringes with warmed goat's milk, and they need to be nurtured.  They crave touch.  As soon as one of us puts our hand in the little bed we've made for them they start to climb – fast.  And when they get snuggled into a crook of an arm or neck they start their little engines – their purring is a most beautiful sound.  I like to think that it's their way of saying “thanks for taking care of me” and “you're doing a good job.”  When they roll over in my hand, bellies exposed, you know they feel safe and secure, and that is a really good thing.

We have divine instruction to look after the animals that are put into our care.  There's scripture that instructs us to take care of the animals, to not abuse them.  And so, I am caring (go big or go home, in real deep, loving these little babies) physically for their immediate needs and emotionally on my part in ways that I maybe didn't really want to, but deep down, maybe needed to.

It's going to be very sad in our house in six more weeks when they're old enough to go to new families.  My kids have become attached.  I have become attached.  They help with the holding and stroking – a lot.  It's their favourite thing to do.  They're learning what “really gentle” means and that the kitties are babies not new novelty toys (this is a tough one because all they really want to do is play with them).

When all is said and done, I am grateful that we are able to have this opportunity with our kids and they get to see all that is involved with caring for these little babies.  Growing up on a farm we saw life and death on a regular basis, but we never got to be the ones caring for new kittens.  This is a new experience for me given the sheer number of critters I grew up with, I never had an opportunity to be momma to kittens.  Especially not kittens who were less than two weeks old.  I'm glad I get to do this and my kids get to help.  And, hopefully, babies will thrive and my kids will get to see the end result as positive.

Anyone want a kitty in six weeks?

So I have to add an update here at the end.  I wrote this post over a three day period.  Yesterday, just a few hours after I finally posted it the little dark haired kitty died.  Devastated does not even begin to describe how my kids are feeling.  How does one deal with their children's first heartbreak?  She/he (not sure of the gender) stopped suckling from the bottle, so I was using a syringe.  Breathing got laboured in the early afternoon and by 3pm, when we got home from school, it was over.

Ryan wanted a kitty funeral.  So we found a box and some soft cloths.  Dug a hole and buried it and then the kids all put flowers around.  We are now sifting through all the emotions and I'm trying to find answers for them for some tough life questions.  Prayers and positive thoughts would be great right now.