We just returned from spending several days visiting with family. It was a wonderful visit and I so appreciated the time with people we love (and away from the craziness). When we came home, however, we sadly found that Georgie the Fish had passed away while we were gone. I first noticed the smell and quickly realized that Georgie was (quite literally) belly up in his bowl. I called the kid over to me and explained to him that Georgie had died. Here's how the conversation went:
Me: Baby, Georgie has died. I'm so sorry.
Kid: Momma, what happened to him?
Me: I'm not sure.
Kid: Poppa, Georgie died.
Hubby: Okay. Uh, I'm sorry. (takes fish and starts to flush it down the toilet)
Me: Uh, wait a minute. Can we process this first, please.
Hubby: Uh...oh, okay.
Me: Baby, how are you feeling?
Kid: I'm sad that Georgie died. Momma, you know Georgie really liked it when it rained. He really liked to jump, especially when it rained. He was a good jumper. Momma, we shouldn't have left him to go on vacation. We shouldn't have left him alone 'cause that's when he died.
(Hubby flushes Georgie down toilet)
Kid: Momma, is Georgie going to heaven?
Me: I think so, but what do you think?
Kid:Yeah, I think so, too.
(later)
Kid: Momma, can I ask you something?
Me: Sure, baby. You can ask me anything. What is it?
Kid: Is Georgie in heaven now?
Me: I think so, what do you think.
Kid: Actually, I think he's still in the toilet.
Me: No, he's not there. Poppa flushed it. He's not in the toilet anymore.
Kid: Oh, good. 'Cause I have to pee and I don't want to pee on him. That would be rude. But, Momma, is he in ocean heaven now?
Me: Yeah, I think so. I think that's a good place for a fish.
Kid: Is he with his fish family? 'Cause we were his people family and we loved him. He was a good fish and we were his good family. But maybe now he's back with his fish family because they love him, too.
Me: (hugs the kid tight, without words for once in my life)
Today's lesson - kids understand a lot more than we give them credit for. They're also empathetic, both of which are attributes we really need to nurture. I think intuition and empathy are necessary for our kids to have in order for them to have a better world than the one we have now. Lets work on it together.
Showing posts with label goldfish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goldfish. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Transracial, not Triracial
A few days after that life-shifting mass, I started looking at adoption agencies. I don't really remember whether or not I told my husband I was doing this. I do remember looking up Catholic Social Services, thinking it was a logical place to start. I remember calling my husband into the computer room (aka the dog's room - poor dog, used to have a room of his own, now he barely has a corner of a room). I showed him the website and said, "this is what we need to do". He agreed to discuss any information I may get, but I feel like it was more about placating me so I wouldn't cry again rather than agreeing adoption was the path we were meant to head down.
We went in to meet with them within the next couple of weeks as I became even more certain about adoption. Poor hubby just went along for the ride, still believing with his whole being that we were going to get pregnant. The social workers told us that they weren't going to have another class for almost a year; I was devastated, but something in my head kept reminding me that it would be okay. A couple of weeks later, the social workers called back and asked if we would be interested in transracial adoption. They would be offering a class for families interested in it in the next couple of months.
Transracial adoption is not, as one of my very intelligent social worker friends thought, an adoption involving at least 3 different races (really, KB, you should have known! Thanks for letting me laugh at you though!). Well, I mean, I suppose it could involve 3 races, but what it actually means is adopting a child of a different race. We weren't sure at first how we felt about this. Mostly we were concerned about how hubby's family would react. His grandfather, though he was deceased, had been known to use "the 'N' word"; it's a good guess that he wasn't the only one.
I think hubby was the first to say it, "I just want to be a parent". It was a huge turning point for him, and I guess for both of us. We would educate ourselves about the challenges with which transracial adoption might present us and our child. We would prepare our families (eventually). But mostly we would open our hearts to joyfully welcome whatever child was meant to be ours.
Okay, so today's lesson has absolutely nothing to do with all that stuff. It has to do with the new addition to our family, a goldfish named Georgie. And actually, the lesson is really for goldfish, not so much people. So, here it is. If you're a goldfish, try not to be so unlucky as to end up living at a county fair/carnival. You will probably be won by a 4yo boy who will poke at you, put random things in your bowl, and frequently tap on your tiny glass bowl. Please do not blame said boy's parents as they do their best to keep him away from you, but seriously, he's like Houdini when he wants something. On the bright side, he does seem to adore you...so maybe it's not such a bad life? I mean, it'll probably be a short one, but you'll be loved.
We went in to meet with them within the next couple of weeks as I became even more certain about adoption. Poor hubby just went along for the ride, still believing with his whole being that we were going to get pregnant. The social workers told us that they weren't going to have another class for almost a year; I was devastated, but something in my head kept reminding me that it would be okay. A couple of weeks later, the social workers called back and asked if we would be interested in transracial adoption. They would be offering a class for families interested in it in the next couple of months.
Transracial adoption is not, as one of my very intelligent social worker friends thought, an adoption involving at least 3 different races (really, KB, you should have known! Thanks for letting me laugh at you though!). Well, I mean, I suppose it could involve 3 races, but what it actually means is adopting a child of a different race. We weren't sure at first how we felt about this. Mostly we were concerned about how hubby's family would react. His grandfather, though he was deceased, had been known to use "the 'N' word"; it's a good guess that he wasn't the only one.
I think hubby was the first to say it, "I just want to be a parent". It was a huge turning point for him, and I guess for both of us. We would educate ourselves about the challenges with which transracial adoption might present us and our child. We would prepare our families (eventually). But mostly we would open our hearts to joyfully welcome whatever child was meant to be ours.
Okay, so today's lesson has absolutely nothing to do with all that stuff. It has to do with the new addition to our family, a goldfish named Georgie. And actually, the lesson is really for goldfish, not so much people. So, here it is. If you're a goldfish, try not to be so unlucky as to end up living at a county fair/carnival. You will probably be won by a 4yo boy who will poke at you, put random things in your bowl, and frequently tap on your tiny glass bowl. Please do not blame said boy's parents as they do their best to keep him away from you, but seriously, he's like Houdini when he wants something. On the bright side, he does seem to adore you...so maybe it's not such a bad life? I mean, it'll probably be a short one, but you'll be loved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)