29 Hours

(late night, sketchy bumpy thoughts. hang on for the ride)

Hour 29. Savoring post-bedtime safety and quiet.

Tinker has now been a member of our little unit for 29 hrs. She is "just a cat" but this is really a life changing thing. Especially for the smallest but most emotionally sensitive human in our family.

Already discussion has covered such ground as: "She is sad because she misses her other mommy..." "I'm her Big Sister!" "She will be our pet forever and ever! She will never die?" "I want a brother AND a sister."

This inquisitive child takes in every morsel, savoring it, turning it over, examining it, probing it for meaning. I would be lying if I didn't admit, I'm terrified. In the last 29 hrs we have attempted, flounderingly, to answer many questions.... from: "How does Jesus fit in our hearts?" to "What does jabbering mean?" I find that I am often at a loss for words. And, really, this is just a pretty typical day with our Beanikins. (And for most parents of 3 year olds, and children in general).

Parenting is just a damn hard job, especially for someone who just wants to do it "right", is easily devastated by perceived and real failures, stymied by simple frustrations, and is a night owl in persistent denial that her child will not sleep later just because she (the parent) goes to bed too late.

But here I am, imagining we could do it times two.

One of my favorite tshirts is one I found at Goodwill a couple years ago. It is mossy green, with a lime-shade screenprint in a lovely scroll-like script that reads "I am TERRIFIED". I wear my terror proud, and I laugh. My typically unfounded but always possible fears. I'm slowly learning that bravery is acknowledging my fears, to be informed by them, to gain understanding and strength to keep plunging (or plodding) ahead.

hm. how did i get here?

oh. yes. the cat- Tinker.

I've been putting off this new pet.

Yosi was introduced to death at the tender age of 18mths when our other cats, one indoor, one outdoor, died within approximately 8 months of each other. The most recent one, 2 autumns past, affected her most profoundly. She still tells people that she had kitties, but they died.

She has asked, frequently in the last several months, if we could get another cat. To say she is overjoyed is possibly an understatement. But it has been a little confusing for her, not understanding why the poor creature often runs and hides from her enthusiastic affection...

elmira?

If adding a new pet to our family is so beautifully complex, what would it be like to add another human?

Good.

With great joy and pain.