The Good News, the Bad News, the More Good News, the More Bad News, and Then a Bit More Good News… Or Why I Shouldn’t Have Pets

The good news is that when two male bettas get in the same container together, they do not immediately kill each other. The bad news is that in order to correctly put the divider between the two halves of a betta bowl—so that the fish don’t end up on the same side—you apparently have to be smarter than the bowl. … And I am not. The more good news is that I fixed my mistake, and the fish seem to have survived their several close encounters.

On the other hand (the bad news), Ella is swimming really weird and spazzy and sideways these days, and then just lying around near the top of the bowl on his side. And he looks totally broken—all wonky and lumpy.* I was sure he was dying. You would be too. So Brice asked the googoracle (i.e., the all-knowing google) what could be wrong with our poor fish. It turns out (this is the good news, by the way) he most likely has one of two very common, treatable, and nonfatal conditions for bettas: swim bladder disorder… or constipation. And the best first line of defense for our Ella is to isolate him and keep an eye on—you guessed it—his poop. Now, I don’t know about you, but never in my life have I had any desire to watch the droppings on the bottom of my fish’s bowl just to see if it looked like, well, enough. And yet, here I am, doing just that. Oh, and guess what? Next I get to try to feed him bits of peas to help him get a little more regular.

Yeah.

You know what the biggest problem about this is, though? It’s the overwhelming sense of responsibility I have for all of this. When I thought he was dying, I kept trying to feel like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. I had this fish whom I was killing! It’s not like I was particularly attached to the poor thing (yes, I know, I’m a curmudgeon). It’s just that I didn’t want to have killed it. I remember how upset I got over a beautiful bromeliad that we had received for my mother’s funeral—I managed to kill it within a month, even though supposedly they’re quite hardy. I have felt guilty over the death of basil plants, for heaven’s sake!** What kind of craziness is it for me to be involved in pet ownership?! I will tell you: total, complete craziness.***

We went to the pet store to get the extra supplies we had run out of for our fish already (don’t even get me started on the costs of having pets), and the girls enjoyed looking at all the animals. I found myself with Addra, staring at the oh-so-adorable tiny little mice. And thanking my lucky stars that I had not succumbed to the insane desire I’d had on our previous visit to the pet store—the desire to take home some of those cuddly little critters.

That way lies madness.

*As a side note at this point, I should like to tell you that it is remarkably difficult to use the correct gender pronoun when your male fish is named “Ella.”

**Birds ate them, by the way. It really wasn’t my fault.

***It’s a whole different kind of craziness, by the way, for me to be involved in motherhood.

I killed a styrofoam bear.

Some assorted tidbits from the first week of the new year! Complete with pictures and vids at the end that I didn’t even bother to try to insert in the right places.

Ella and Lumma

We like to celebrate Three Kings Day (6 January). It’s the celebration of when the wise men visited baby Jesus, and there are lots of different ways to celebrate, ranging from very spiritual (it’s called Epiphany in the Catholic Church, and it’s one of their big feast days) to silly (which is more what we do). We leave out a small shoebox filled with grass at the foot of the bed. Then, when we wake up in the morning, the wise men’s camels have eaten the grass and left behind a small gift. This year the camels left some new pet fish: two bettas named Ella and Lumma (those were the children’s choices of names; don’t let the names fool you, though—both fish are boys). Coriel was so excited. She has been wanting a pet forever. Forever. Forever. And since I am super-allergic to all things furry (and also unwilling to take care of anything more furry than, say, Brice), we’ve been avoiding getting anything. But a couple of fish, I can manage (barely). The fish are beautiful, even I can admit. Ella is a blue-green crowntail betta, which means he’s got an awesome frilly tail. Lumma is a brick red veiltail male (isn’t that fun to say!).

Forget the birds and the bees. Let’s talk fish!

The fish also led to one of my first official sex talks with Coriel. Yes, seriously. We had told her specifically that we couldn’t have a boy and a girl fish, and she wanted to know why. She also started telling me she wanted Ella and Lumma to have two baby fish so we could have more pets. So I explained to her that fish make lots of eggs, not just two. And I had to explain at least a little about the boy/girl issue. It was pretty surreal, let me just say. But we made it through, all unscarred, and totally calm and rational and all sorts of good stuff. Let’s just say hoorah for that semester-long class I took about sex therapy, huh?*

Thirteen

Coriel was assigned to say the thirteenth article of faith in Primary on Sunday. We worked on it a little bit during the week, just a bit every day, and miraculously (because she’s awesome like this), she got it all memorized in time for church. I was so proud of her! She did such a great job, and she certainly has an excellent memory.

My daughter is a cat.

I don’t exactly remember the context, but at dinner the other night, we were talking about something that we were going to do. Addra didn’t want to do it and expressed her disagreement like this: “No, meow.” I wish you could have heard it. It was as if it was a natural part of her conversation, as if inserting a “meow” was just the sort of thing you do when speaking. She also has a tendency to rub up against my legs when I’m standing around in the kitchen, curl up in my lap to be petted, and meow at random moments. Sadly, she does not curl up and fall asleep in small patches of sunlight.

And now they are both dogs.

Our visit to the pet store, complete with trying out the doghouses.

I killed a styrofoam bear.

This last week Brice and I and a friend named Leon all went to an archery range to get a short bow shooting lesson and shoot some fake animals. It was fun, and I wasn’t even all that bad. Not good, mind you, just not bad. By the time it was all done, I had killed a number of targets and, most notably, a large styrofoam bear. Die, bear, die! I also developed a strange tingling sensation on the outer edge of my left ring finger and bruises on my left middle and ring fingers. All that bowstring-pulling-back-ness makes for weird finger feelings. (Five days later, it still tingles slightly! Hee hee!)

I am a play-doh master.

I made a really great play-doh horse this week. I mean, seriously impressive. Believe me, it was Art. In fact, don’t believe me. View images of my sheer awesomeness.

Coriel’s art

Lest you think I’m the only one in the family with mad artistic skills, please observe Coriel’s awesomeness as well. This is a rainbow (obviously) in the sky (witness the clouds). The cat on the ground has a tail that reaches “up into the universe.” Then you can see the blue line, which is the planet earth. And, of course, a space alien. 

Goodbye, Prologue

A new post on the other blog, in which I lament sending my chapters to the garbage bin.

*I see some of you widening your eyes in surprise. You remember, right, that I was studying to be a therapist long long ago? A marriage and family therapist? Yes, it turns out that sex is kind of important in marriage, so you’ve got to be able to therapize it (no, therapize is not a real word). It also turns out that, of all the classes I took, this one was probably one of the best, most practical, and most useful). 

The real reason I don't need any pets.

My horse of awesomeness.

The horse pulling a wagon Coriel made. And its headless driver (the driver did have a head at one point).

Showing a camel to the fish.

A bad shot of Ella

I just want to hug the space alien.

This one is Lumma.