Depressing Night

I spent well over an hour tonight comforting a sobbing J because Fin is not looking good.  It seems  likely that (s)he won’t last more than another day or two.  Foolishly, I suppose, I warned the girls that I didn’t think Fin was going to make it.   Please:  I don’t want advice on how to save the fish–I have Googled, I asked the pet store lady, I’ve done what I can, I’m not going to secretly replace Fin and prolong the agony,  so just feel my thirst, okay?  Anyway, J would cry, try to compose herself, allow herself to get distracted, and then, a few minutes later, she’d start again.

We discussed possible funereal options.  I suggested that although the flush seemed disrespectful, it was actually a way to allow Fin to become one with the oceans and waters of the world.  J was unpersuaded.  She’d like a burial with a handmade faux floral memorial to mark the spot.  Of course.  At one point, during dinner, we tried to switch the subject to our happy, healthy cat, Isis.  J contributed that she was particularly grateful that Isis had chosen not to eat Fin (cue additional tears here).  Later, at bedtime, I was whispering to J about the delightful upcoming holidays, and we talked about our Thanksgiving thankful tree, where the girls name things that they’re thankful for and it’s “[sniff] I will say that I am thankful that we had Fin, even though it wasn’t for very long.”

J wallows.  And when it comes to death, or really, all of the biggies, she’s relentless.  You know how “they” always say that you should just answer questions with the bare minimum necessary to answer?  She’s the queen of the follow-up .  What does it mean to die?   Do you see people who die again? Are you going to die?  Is [her friend] going to die? Yeah, I know not for a long, long, time, but that’s just probably, right?  It’s possible to die just from a bad accident any time, isn’t it? — and then– But I don’t want you to get old!  I don’t want to grow up!  I just want to stay with you and live here with you forever. So as soon as the fish arrived at home we feared the mourning.  And here it is.  And now I feel like an idiot that we gave her a warning, because how long can this fish hold out?  Seriously, it’s not eating, it’s barely mobile. I almost want to just take it out of the water.  But I won’t take it out of the water.

UPDATE:  Fin died overnight.

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Prior to the fish brouhaha, there was a Sibling Incident that led to M’s confinement in solitary followed by a lecture/discussion/crying jag.    And then I sat down on the sofa to post this and Cute W was watching a Frontline on BP.  So I’m about ready to cast the whole dang thing aside and start pillaging  the house for some chocolate.

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For those of you with baby needs, did you hear that the Buy Buy Baby store has opened in Colonie?  I heard about it on the TU’s Parent to Parent blog.

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