April 17, 2010

Animal Rescue

Last night we found a baby squirrel laying at the base of a tall pine tree in our front yard.  We had just gotten home from having the kids’ pictures taken when Dawson spotted the little thing on the grass.

“Mom!  I see a rat!  On the ground!  I think he’s dead!”

I immediately turned on my Mom Voice.

“DON’T touch it.  It might be full of germs.  Or rabies!”

When I got a closer look, this is what I saw:

Ugly, but cute at the same time.

“Dawson, that is not a rat.  That is a little baby squirrel.  He must have fallen out of the tree.”

It was very windy yesterday and I assumed one strong gust tossed the little thing to the ground.

“Oh, Mom, he’s dead!” Dawson began to cry.

My heart melted as I witnessed my son’s innocence and compassion toward this helpless little animal.

Then the wind blew and we saw the squirrel’s legs move.  His tail twitched.  His body curled slightly.

“HE’S ALIVE!” Dawson shouted.  His sadness was replaced with happiness, then he became distraught.  ”Mommy!  We have to save it!  We have to bring him in the house and warm him up and feed him and help him!”

I didn’t know what to do, but I was not about to nurse a squirrel back to health.  I mean, it’s a rodent.  Rodentia and I do NOT get along.  I’m terrified of the creepy, scurrying little things.  (When I was very young I found a dead mouse in the garage and it scared me silly.  Still have this phobia about it, all these years later.)

I tried to explain to Dawson why we could not bring the animal in the house.

“Call Daddy!  Daddy will save him!”

Doug was at a friend’s Trivia party and I called his cell phone and told him the news.  He assured me he’d be home soon to help me with this situation.

When Doug arrived he got on the computer and Googled “baby squirrel fell out of tree” and found a wildlife site that gave detailed directions on how to help the squirrel.  Next, he found a cardboard box, lined it with an old towel and tucked a heated water bottle underneath.  Using gloves and a paper towel he picked up the little squirrel and tucked him inside the box.  It was like a baby squirrel crib.  My husband was my hero.  I knew I couldn’t have done what he did. Little Dawson was so happy that his father rescued the squirrel.

The website said that the mama squirrel would most likely retrieve her baby as long as he hadn’t been severely injured.  Since we weren’t sure of his condition we didn’t know what to expect.  Doug told Dawson that all we could do was hope the squirrel would survive the cold night and that his mother would get him in the morning.

Dawson awoke at 7:45 and was eager to check on his little friend.  We went outside and looked in the box but didn’t see the baby squirrel.  I told Dawson that his mother probably retrieved him.

Ater the Doodlebug went back in the house, I moved the towel a little and saw that the baby squirrel was still tucked inside, but he had died.  I touched his leg with a twig.  No movement.  No breathing.  I cried. I knew I couldn’t tell Dawson the truth.  It would break his heart.

I feel very sad.  I don’t like that I’ve lied to a 5-year-old.  I know he’s old enough to understand the truth, but I do not want to upset him.  On the other hand, lessons on life and death could be learned.  But is Dawson ready for that?  I don’t know.

What would you do?

February 6, 2010

Dana Who?

I’ve been sitting at my laptop for several minutes, contemplating what I will write on here on this blog.  I’m drawing a blank.  Again.  I haven’t been here much these last few weeks.  I am not even sure anyone still reads the blog, considering that I haven’t written in a month.  Dana who?

I could give you a list of excuses as to why I’m not here, but you already know the answer.

Two weeks before Owen was born, I stopped working for BlogHer as a headline editor.  My contract ended and the financial difficulty that has followed has been miserable.  We’ve made drastic changes to our lifestyle, and have become very frugal.  The last thing I wanted to do on maternity leave was hunt for another job when I was nursing and bonding with Owen.

Just after Owen was 3 months, I began my job search only to discover there are no jobs.  The few positions available in the job market here in Wisconsin are being filled quickly.  So many applicants applying for the same jobs.  It’s depressing.

I’m grateful that my husband is still employed, although his company is making cuts, too.  Sixty people were let go in the last month due to this crappy economy.  It makes us both very nervous.  No one is safe from a lay-off.

I’ve been through two interviews this last month.  I was offered a position with one company and completed paperwork, only to find out later that their corporate office decided to down-size.  Several new hires were let go.  I never got to start the job.  The other position was filled by someone with more experience in the field.

Because of this insanity in the job market, I’ve decided to go back to school.  It’s time to finish my degree while I’m not working.  I’ve finished the application process and applied for financing (student loan) and now I wait for acceptance into the program.  I’ve got one year left and it’s now or never.

Dawson is still loving 4K.  He can’t wait to go to school each morning.  He tells me how much he loves his friends and his teacher, and his favorite part of the day is story time.  Last month his class took a field trip to the local library.  Dawson was so excited to check out a book under his very own library card.  We spend a lot of time at the library now that he can use his own card.

Owen is growing leaps and bounds.  He’s barely 4 months old but he weighs 20 pounds.  He’s my mini-linebacker.  Lately he’s been refusing to nurse on one side and is very fussy, mostly in the evening.  I thought he had an ear infection, but his pediatrician thinks he’s just got a preference and he’ll grow out of it.  I hope it happens soon.  Fussy baby makes me a little crazy.

Last month my grandmother’s house burned down.  She passed away in 2005, but my aunt and uncle still lived there as they run the farm.  It was caused by a chimney fire and it ruined the 100-year-old house.  My uncle is staying with his another uncle who lives down the road, and my aunt is staying with my parents.  I’m so thankful they made it out of the house alive.  They lost everything.  It’s devastating.

2010 has not started off on the right foot.

December 26, 2009

End of the Year Blahs

For several days I have suffered blogger’s block.  I want to write, but nothing seems fit to blog.  I’m so busy being wife, mother and household manager that I rarely have time to sit down and tap the keys.

Owen is ten weeks old today and he has grown so much in the last few weeks.  He still eats often.  I call him “the linebacker” because he is rock solid.  He’s almost 13 pounds!  I think we’ve hit the 3-month growth spurt because he’s back to eating every 2 hours or less.  I miss those few short weeks when he’d go three hours between feedings.

Dawson is 5 1/4 years old and has acquired somewhat of an attitude these last few days.  When I ask him to do something he gives me these looks that could kill, and he says things I would expect from a teenager instead of a sweet pre-kindergartner.  Lately, asking him to get dressed in the morning or put on his pajamas at night warrants a snotty remark.  When I ask him why he is acting this way he storms off to his room and slams the door.  I’m hoping it’s just a phase.  Doug thinks he does this for attention because he’s no longer the one and only child.  I’m sure he’s right.

We had a wonderful Christmas.  We spent Christmas Eve with Doug’s parents and siblings and their spouses, and his aunt and uncle were present, too.  Dawson and Owen made out like bandits with all the new toys they received.  I may have to down size to make room for the new additions.

Christmas Day we traveled a few miles to my parents’ house.  My brothers and sister gave Dawson more toys!  We should never need to buy any toys for at least a year.  My brother Nathan’s girlfriend (future sister-in-law, I hope!) made a beautiful afghan for me.  It’s so gorgeous.  I’m going to take a picture of it to post at Flickr.  I love it so much!

Tomorrow is Owen’s baptism.  We need to get up early to get everyone ready and out the door on time.  I’ve been so busy trying to get things done, and I’m so tired these days, I’m afraid I’m forgetting something.  I’m sure everything will be just fine.  I really need to learn to worry less.

In other boring news, I’m really considering taking the rest of the year off from blogging.  I just don’t feel like forcing myself to write.  I know this blog needs an overhaul, a little refreshing perhaps.  If I’m going to be completely honest, I’m also feeling the need for more privacy in my life.  I almost prefer to shut TDF down and blog anonymously.

Maybe I’m just tired.

Maybe I need to take a break until I have something interesting to say.

December 4, 2009

Seriously? 300 Visitors?

Good grief, kids.  I have to thank Lilith, self-proclaimed asshole, for linking to yesterday’s blog post about me bribing my child at a stoplight to help his baby brother by putting a nuk back in his mouth.  Buckle up folks, yesterday’s entry received 300 visitors.

Three of them were total bitches, but that’s just part of the job I suppose.

Who knew that my not so great (but desperate) decision to break a seat belt law for half a minute could drum up such outrage.  Meanwhile, millions of babies are being aborted, children are starving in third world countries, Obama is sending more troops to the war zone and bankrupting the nation with his proposed health care bill, but Lilith could care less. Instead she links to little ol’ me!  How sweet.

I’d link to the blog I mention, but I’m just not that into it.