Hamster Heartbreak

The anticipation lasted for weeks.

I promised LeBella and LeArtist if they passed the 4th grade I would get them each a hamster. For LeBella this was just an incentive to help her through the end of the year. For LeArtist though, it was an attempt to pull him out of rut. I am happy to say the both pulled it off.

And so the reward….

We headed to our local Petco and surveyed our options. We compared prices and the kids decided it would more cost efficient to purchase hamster kits that come with the cage, wheel, food, snacks, toys and bedding. (Proud frugal mommy moment). Then they began The Great Hamster Decision. LeArtist went first carefully considering all that was available before choosing one who was mostly white with a splattering of color on his back and face. LeBella took forever to choose one. She has a difficult time when presented with too many options but the clerk was very patient. Her first choice, a chunky one, turned out to be a biter so she went with a smaller one who she named Buster.

At home the kids fell in love right away. They spent hours cooing at their little buddies before they began to gently handle them. As soon as LeBella began to handle Buster she noticed one of his ears was crusty. I called the pet store and told them I thought maybe he had an ear infection (do hamsters get ear infections?) and they told me bring him in to see their vet.

The next day we took Buster in to see Dr. Paul. He assured us that hamsters rarely get diseases so it was probably nothing. He set about cleaning the area and found a few scabs that he gently removed…until the last one. Apparently Buster had some untreated fight wounds that had infected the skin against his cheek pouch. When the et pulled the scab the side of the poor things face came off, exposing the pouch beneath it.

LeBella was in the room because, honestly, we didn’t expect anything major. She was horrified, we all were. After a lot of tears and discussing our options LeBella decided to return the hamster to the store where the would take care of his medical needs and to pick out a new one.

The next two days were awful. Yes she got a new hamster who is a complete sweetheart. And she fell in love right away.

But she was racked with guilt and she was sad because she had already been attached to Buster. She would be playing with Sasha (the new one) and burst out in tears. When I asked what was wrong she would say “I forgot about Buster, I was loving Sasha and just forgot!”

The first night she woke up 4 times! She kept saying that she missed him, that she was a bad pet owner for giving up on him. It was so hard to see her so distraught and quite frankly? I am a bit nervous. I mean a hamster has a life expectancy of what, three years? How will she take a loss then? Will she be mature enough to handle it? What role does her illness have in her response? Would an atypical child have had this strong of a reaction?

She mentions Buster less and less and she has done so well with Sasha. I’m excited for the things that pet ownership will teach her. Already she has made more efforts to keep her room clean, so it is safe for Sasha. And she is showing greater responsibility by checking her food and water daily as well as maintaining the cleanliness of the cage.

What other lessons have you kids learned from having pets? How have you handles the loss of a pet?

Writer’s Workshop:Dear Teen, Love Mom

I am linking up again this week with Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop. For this week’s prompt I have chosen: A letter to your future teen.

My Darling Son,

You have grown so very fast. It seems like just yesterday I held your tiny 8.9lbs package of baby softness in my young arms and gazed into those big brown eyes for the very first time. In one heartbeat I experienced a level of love that I didn’t even know existed. The bond we developed came quick, strong and has stood the test of time.

That first year was such a scary one for us. You were sick, a lot. When you were 3 months old you had a surgery that scared the bejeezus out of me, but saved your life.

When you were a toddler I finally had to bite the bullet and get a job. I found a daycare that gave me my first job and allowed me to keep tabs on you. This was a traumatic time for us both, we had such bad separation anxiety! We sat on opposites side of a cold classroom door, crying our eyes out.

You had a few rough years of school, barely passing most years, but I knew you were smart! I studied with you every day and I’m sorry I made you redo all your school work, but by 4th grade you were pulling straight A’s and you’ve been an Honor student ever since!

To this day you are often close by my side. Always “hanging out” with me. I often joke that I must have done something wrong because I thought teenagers were supposed to be sulky, locking themselves away in their rooms and avoiding their family at all costs.

I hope this doesn’t change. I love that you welcome me into your life and share everything with me.You’ve told me your dreams and your plans to reach them, and I have vowed to help you every step of the way.

Mostly, I want to tell you how proud I am of you. I am so proud that you made it into the Honors Program. I am so proud of your priorities and how you take school so seriously. You know that as long as you do your best, I am proud of you, but you don’t use that as a crutch. You always push for more, better, higher.

And I also want to tell you, thank you. Thank you for teaching me to be a mother, for forgiving my mistakes and praising my successes.

Thank you for being you.

I love you always,

Mom

I don’t think there are words in existence that properly express the love a mother has for her children and there are an infinite number of reasons why my son is so special to me, I don’t think I could ever sum them up in a blog post, or ten.

A letter to your future teen.

Sap Happy Sunday: Yes ICAN

I often find myself standing in my kids doorways at night and being overwhelmed with gratefulness. Though things are often tight around here, they have never gone hungry or gone without necessities like clothes and shoes. And they know that when we hit an occasional high their “wants” will be taken care of too. But most importantly I am grateful knowing they are safe. They have never been abused and I take great measures to make sure they never will. Some may call me a helicopter mom, but if it keeps my kids safe, so be it.

What hurts my heart most is the knowledge that I can’t keep every child safe. I wish I could drop a protective bubble on every victimized child, or better yet, turn back time and stop it from every having at all. But I can’t do anything can I?

Photo Credit: sodahead.com

Yes ICAN.

When I asked my readers a couple weeks ago for suggestions of people and organizations my wonderful reader Sharyn jumped to the ready and shared with me this wonderful organization she has been volunteering with for almost 9 years.

This organization offers education on abuse; what it is, how to spot it, how to report it. They offer support through chats, bulletin boards and resources as well as current events and news regarding abuse. The Memorial page is difficult to read. It is a listing of some of the sweet young souls that were ripped from this world to soon due to abuse.

You can help support Yes ICAN in their mission by volunteering, donating, or making your Amazon purchases though their site.

Yes ICAN’s Mission Statement is simple:

Working world-wide to break the cycle of child abuse.

Yes ICAN’s Vision Statement:

A dream is defined as: “a vision of something possible.” This is an introduction to just such a dream, a dream that we have had for well over a year. We now want to share our dream with others.

This dream is in the form of a private non-profit agency called “YES ICAN.” YES is the affirmation of every individual’s capacity to change and to make a difference. ICAN is the acronym for International Child Abuse Network. As is stated in our mission: “Working worldwide to break the cycle of child abuse,” the services we will provide through this agency will be for anyone who needs assistance or information concerning child abuse. We believe that child abuse could cease to exist if everyone had the capability to receive accurate information about abuse and then had the capacity to receive assistance and support to change. Read more…

Photo Credit: chaostoconnection.com

If you suspect a child is being abused you can get them help by calling National Child Abuse Hotline 1-800-4-A-CHILD. Your phone call could save a life.

Related Articles

• ICAN’s Youth Program Chandler Coalition on Youth Substance Abuse Educates Local Community About New Drug of Choice (prweb.com)
• Center looks to break cycle of child abuse (charlotte.news14.com)
• 5 Children Die Every Day Because of Child Abuse (greenandcleanmom.org)

Mom Confession: Torture as a Discipline Method

This is Jiovanni aka LeScholar at about 2.5 years old. I know what you’re thinking. Those chubby cheeks, big brown eyes, sweet little smile. Why would you ever need any discipline at all, let alone torturous ones?

Well, my answer is two fold. He is the first born child of a teen mom (uh, that would be me, y’all). So he was the guinea pig. You know, the test kid that you practice all your parenting stuff on before you decide to stock up on more expand your little family. And the second part? Oh yeah, he was quite possibly possessed by a demonic spirit 93.2% of the time. And also he was immune to my discipline tactics.

“You are grounded!” earned me a quick smile.

“No car keys for a week!” was good for a giggle.

“I’m taking away your cell phone!” got me a belly laugh.

People, we were dealing with a two year old. Big guns were required. I refused to be taken down by  a two foot tall terrorist who thought poop made great wall decorations.

“I’m getting the Shoes.”

“No, mommy, no shoes! I beed good! I beed the good boy! I no want it shoes!” This plea was often punctuated by one of those ear piercing wails that only a toddler and my 9 year old daughter are capable of.

Now before you go to call CPS let me tell you two things!

1. Statute of limitations.

2. While often tempted, I did not ever beat my child with a shoe.

Let me explain. Remember that Christmas about 10ish years ago when Mother’s everywhere were eye gauging and ripping out each others hair to get this lil guy into their shopping carts?

Well, being the loser last minute Christmas shopping Mommy that I am, I had to settle for the slightly less popular:

And what made our Cookie Monster so awesome was that he came with a pair of plastic shoes (one piece) with speakers in the top and wheels on the bottom. So you stuck his fuzzy wuzzy feet into those bad boys and he could (drum roll please) walk and talk!!

“My want cookies! Nom nom nom nom!”

And that deep growly voice couple with the slightly jerky movement of the shoes scared the wall art out my demon possessed sweet baby boy. Score!

So, I did what any responsible teen mom still learning how to discipline a toddle would do.

I let him watch me placed them in the little half closet that house the AC unit for the house. And gave him the plain boring Cookie Monster doll to torment cuddle with.

And then?

Refuse to go to bed? “I’m getting the Shoes.”

“Noooo! I beed good! I no want it shoes!”

Learning that hitting is fun?

“Shoes?”

“Nooooo! No, shoes, Mommy!”

Kamakazee jumping off the furniture?

*Look towards closet containing the offensive shoes.*

*Docile toddler climbs off the back of the sofa and sits with hands in lap, watching mindless episodes of The Teletubbies. Occasionally glaces apprehensively at Mommy and said closet.*

Is there, like, some kind of award for mastering child discipline as a teen mom? Just curious…..

A Second Serving RePost from CDG (Move Over Mary Poppins)

Do you ever just stop and see your child? I mean really see them? With your heart rather than just your eyes. Uncensored by late appointments and spilled milk? Those moments are often sweet and fleeting….Please welcome the sweet CDG from Move Over Mary Poppins!

Swamped at the Library

Image via Wikipedia

We picked out three books.

“Can I put them in my new backpack?”

He’s wearing a lime green LLBean book pack over his French blue polo shirt, and the hair on the crown of his head is sticking up like a crest on a tiny yuppie bird.

“Not yet, honey. We have to check them out first. Can Mama look for a few books?

“Okay.”

I start to peruse the stacks, with my offspring tailing behind, clutching the Railway Rhymes book that is his new “favorite.” He spies a table, with chairs, in the center of the fiction section. We are at a small branch library near our home, and it’s really just one big open room, divided by the stacks.

“Mama? Can I sit at the table and read my book?”

So, I help him into a chair, still wearing his lime green backpack, and he opens up Railway Rhymes, and talks to me as I browse. The table is a little too high, so his arms, folded on his flat-opened book, are high enough to rest his chin on.

“Mama! Look at this long train!”

I look back over my shoulder.

“Wow, sweetie. That is a long train. Library Voice, please.”

“Mama, is this James?”

I squint across the section at his book. Thank goodness for the large illustrations.

“No, baby. That’s Salty. Like your squeezy bath toy.”

“Mama this is kind of like my Thomas book at my house…”

“Yes, darlin’. It is. It has rhymes for each engine, though, instead of long stories. Remember your Library Voice.”

And then I turn back a third time. I see him, my mostly sweet preschooler sitting at a grown up table with his backpack on his shoulders and his legs swinging, with his book in front of him, wearing the smile he reserves for me and our adventures together. I really see him, and I’m swamped by it. It’s not like I ever forget that I love him, but at this moment I’m literally immobilized by it.

And then another woman browsing says, “Oh, isn’t he sweet? How old is he?” and the bubble breaks. I answer her, thank her, and then begin to collect our things to check out.

Be sure to follow CDG on Twitter!