A Boy and His Kitten

kitten

We got a new kitten this weekend. Or rather, my ten year old son got a new kitten this weekend. Because of course, that’s what this crazy house needed, another pet.  

 

But, my son has been asking for approximately two years now for a pet. And I’ve been putting him off because his brothers had pet ferrets and a pet dog, I had a pet cat, his dad had pet fish and I didn’t feel up to taking on more than that. In fact, I have been pretty emphatic that we were done with getting pets. In fact, my husband said, no more pets unless some of the current pets find a new home. In fact, we were united in our stance against new pets.

 

But he kept asking. Pleading. Coming up with all kinds of creative ways he could manage a pet so we wouldn’t even notice it was around. We tossed around the idea of him getting a fish. No. He wanted something he could cuddle. Then I suggested that he take part ownership of the ferrets and dog since his oldest brother was very busy and was on his way to being gone for a year. No. He wanted his Own pet. 

 

And then a week or so ago he told me that his friend who lives down the street had kittens at his house…could he have one of the kittens? And I thought about it and really couldn’t think of any reason to keep saying No to this poor child, and so, I ended up saying Yes. (And his father grudgingly agreed.)

 

Why? Because he’s quirky and I think he needs his own special animal friend. Why? Because  he is not wired to enjoy school work and yet his teachers tell me that he works hard and is a model student in their classes. Why? Because I let my older children have pets and I want to be fair. Why? Because I secretly like kittens and while he’s at school, I’ll get to hold it… 

 

This parenting thing is complicated. Finding the balance between not losing your own sanity, making sure your kids are happy, and making sure they’re also learning how to be responsible. Not killing their dreams, but not spoiling them. 

 

I love my son. He’s very different from me and I have found it a challenge to meet him where he’s at, instead of trying to force him into a mold that is easier to handle. And that is the essence of parenting. Learning how to let go of your own expectations and instead work with what you’ve got. 

 

What I’ve got is a highly intelligent, creative, business-savvy boy who tends to create waves amongst his siblings, who loves to learn new things, (just don’t ask him to read it out of a book), who knows how to wrap his teachers around his little finger, but struggles with the daily playground politics. He’s a kid who is willing to work hard if he’s going to be compensated. He can take a cardboard box and tape and turn it into anything you want. He is a Master Lego Builder, and the arch-nemesis of his younger sister. He frustrates me and delights me. He’s a boy. 

 

And now he’s a boy with a kitten. 

 

And my pet tally has now gone up to: 

 

1 dog

2 ferrets

2 cats

5 fish

3 crawdads

 

I have a feeling those numbers will change again. 

 

Not So Silent Night

It’s two days before Christmas and I am over-the-top busy getting ready for the big day. So, today I’m reposting something I put on Facebook last Christmas. Merry Christmas Everyone!

“Silent Night, Holy Night, All is calm, All is bright.” When I was a child this was my favorite Christmas Carol. I would always imagine a cold moonlit night, stars shining brightly, a big star shining down on a picturesque stable standing all alone on a beautiful hillside. Inside the stable were a couple adorable animals, all sleeping quietly, while Mary and Joseph sit on little stools, dressed impeccably, looking adoringly down on a beautiful infant who is glowing slightly and sleeping peacefully. You know the image I’m talking about, what we always see on Christmas cards.

Now, when I hear that song, I laugh quietly to myself.

“Silent night.” Hah. I doubt there was anything silent about that night. I have given birth 10 times. Yes, 10. I have had a labor that lasted over 24 hrs with 4 hrs of pushing, I’ve had induced labors with an epidural, I’ve had completely natural  births that lasted 4 hrs and completely natural births that lasted 90 minutes. It doesn’t matter how you go about it, the end result is the same. Lots of pain. Mess. Achiness. A feeling of being out-of-body. People around you are giving you instructions, you are doing everything you can to get through the pain, and your husband is trying to offer whatever support he can. And then when the baby is about to come out, the energy in the room suddenly increases and everyone is bustling, getting ready to welcome this newest addition to the world.

I imagine Mary, going through that birth experience in a stable. No sterile hospitals with running water. No ice-packs, no pain killers. No clean bedding. I don’t think Mary was alone during her birth. I am not an expert on the culture of Bethlehem at that time, but I have lived in cultures that were a lot more community oriented than what we have here in the US.  I’m pretty sure she had at least a midwife there, if not several other women who showed up just to help. And we all know that where two or more women are gathered there will be conversation. No. I don’t think it was very silent.

“All is Calm” No. Not really. The baby comes out and is handed to you and you are shaking so hard that you can hardly hold him. And then, there is that overwhelming panic as you look at this tiny bundle in your arms and you realize that it is up to you to keep this baby alive. It’s like a giant weight settles on your shoulders and your entire perspective on life shifts to this baby. From here on out, every decision you make will have to line up with the ultimate goal of providing for and protecting this little one.

But.. it was Holy. “Holy Night.” Yes. The birth of any child is enough to bring you to tears at the wonder of creation. To see this red-faced, wrinkly creature is a holy experience in itself. I remember tears streaming down my face, all pain forgotten for the moment, as I carefully cradled this little one. My child. This life came out of my body. I was in awe at the wonder of birth. I would think, for Mary, that experience was multiplied a hundred fold. Her child. God’s child. Hope born. A fulfillment of God’s promises. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

Painful, messy, loud, chaotic, Holy Night.