About a week ago, our cat, Ozzy, came in from being outside overnight with two large chunks missing out of his back.
A message to a friend suggested he’d possibly been snatched up then dropped by an owl.
He was bleeding and obviously in pain,
so I rushed him to the vet, and came home hours later with two oral medications,
one blue cone,
and one very irritated cat.
For the last several days now,
I have pinned him down to force medications “deep into his cheek pockets” as instructed.
I have held hot compresses on his wounds.
(A feat only possible on a cat if you have had special ops training, such as giving a writhing toddler a glycerine suppository when you are the only adult at home.)
I have sprayed wound spray as he ran,
I have checked for swelling;
All of this for the good of a cat that I’m pretty sure would just as soon bite into my jugular vein as look at me again.
Ozzy is not grateful for my care.
Ozzy is being detained against his will and will seek his revenge.
Ozzy – He will remember.
Mere days before this incident,
my seven year old, Paige, knocked out her right front tooth on her sister’s kneecap while jumping on the trampoline.
She came inside wailing, and bleeding.
I gave ice, and cuddles, and wet paper towels.
I checked her gum line for bruising with the expertise of a periodontist.
I gave her medicine for the pain, measured to the exact right dose for her weight,
which I of course know by heart.
It was a whole entire scene for which
we will both surely be nominated.
A scene that the Tooth Fairy had somehow completely forgotten by 10pm…
Which is why the FOLLOWING NIGHT,
in an attempt to make up for her lateness,
but without realizing the standard it would set,
she decided to leave a $5 bill for that Trauma Tooth.
And wouldn’t you know it?
After all that sobbing, and need for comfort, and care required to soothe the enormous trauma two nights before,
as soon as that kid realized there was a $5 prize on the line for one tooth,
she showed up at my bedside the next morning
holding her OTHER FRONT TOOTH.
The one that hadn’t been ready to come out at all.
“Mama! Mama! I finded 5 whole dollars from da Fairy, so I got weal bwave and I just pulled WEAL hard and out it came! You maked me bwave, so I did it!”
Just yanked it right out like she hadn’t needed a crisis counselor merely hours before.
All of my coddling thrown by the wayside.
Now she looks like all she needs is a banjo,
and I am out $10.
This kind of thankless, seemingly easily forgotten care – It’s just what we Moms do.
The invisible things.
The behind the scene things.
The knowing which kid likes mustard,
and which kid wants theirs without.
The perfect bathtub temperatures,
and the calendar keeping.
The making kids brave.
And sometimes it feels like you put everything you have on the table,
and they scoop every last bit up and simply just walk away.
It can leave you feeling depleted;
Left without more to give.
I have suffered with Generalized Anxiety Disorder for the last 20 years.
This means that I can have an anxiety attack out of seemingly nowhere, and for no real detectable reason at all.
When I woke up yesterday morning I felt one brewing under the surface.
My 10 year old, Tessa, came into my room and found me sitting on the edge of my bed, and asked me if I was OK.
“Yeah,” I told her.
“I’m just fighting anxiety right now.”
“I’m going to go get my water and I’ll be right back,” she said.
When she returned, I asked her what she was doing.
“I’m just going to BE with you.” she said.
“Until you feel better.”
And she did.
For nearly an hour she gently rubbed my back,
and gave me hugs, and whispered soft
“I love you”s until I could feel the weight being lifted off my chest.
It’s so easy to feel taken for granted as a mother, but the reality is,
with every wet paper towel,
and well-made sandwich,
and expertly medicated pet
they are learning how to be.
Their minds may so often seem elsewhere,
but their eyes,
They are always on us.
The care we give them like a ripple effect.
They are not just our children.
We are parents raising future parents who will raise future parents.
My time with my daughter soothing away my stresses yesterday reminded me to watch the ripple.
If we are lucky enough,
Our pouring out will fill a cup that will one day be pressed up to our very own lips.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
