Can a Fish Be Spayed? Just Wonderin'

I think my fish is a sex addict. There, I said it. I am not proud of her, but I think an intervention is in her future. I realize this has nothing to do with my grieving process or fundraising, but this is something that has been brewing in my house, ok in my fish tank, for quite some time and I think it is time I address the issue.

It all started oh about 3 or 4 months ago. We have two Dalmatian Mollys and they happen to love each other. Curiously, Lady Molly became pregnant and gave birth. It was a special time in our home. Our daughter just loved the babies and we desperately tried to save as many as we could. In the battle of nature vs. nurture, nature won and we were only able to save three. Unfortunately, most were consumed at an earlier date and one of the three decided the nursery wasn’t comfy and perished. So, two survived and are thriving. Whoo hoo, free fish. 

About a month ago, I noticed that Lady Molly was gaining weight. Being the female that I am, I decided not to point it out to her and hope that it was just stress and she using food to ease her emotions. Nope, she was pregnant…..again. No problem, we learned a few things and we had a plan. Yes, this could work. We would separate her from the other fish into a smaller tank. We would watch her and when she had her babies we would move her back to the bigger tank. 

Lady Molly grew. If you can imagine a pot-belly pig as a fish, that was what she looked like. She even waddled when she swam. Last night I made her a nice tank with new everything, the perfect birthing palace. We moved her this morning. My guess was that she was either going to give birth or just go belly up. We had no choice, my daughter loves babies and we will do just about anything for her. The day went on just like normal. No excitement, no drama. I decided to check on our expectant mom. Yep, she gave birth. It was sweet. There were babies swimming here and there. We moved mom so the babies could have a better chance. Then we started counting. At first, we counted about 10. No problem, we have lined up adoptions. Notice I said “at first.” Lady Molly had roughly 40 babies. You read it right, 40! They are all alive and eating fish food. What do I do with 40 fish if they survive? That doesn’t include the other 12 I have in the original tank. These aren’t guppies, they grow much bigger.

Can you spay a fish? No that would be too hard. I can’t have a talk with her about waiting a little while longer, I don’t speak fish. Although, my son says he can speak dolphin..hmm, something to think about. Seriously, how do I teach my fish that just because he says he loves her doesn’t mean she should make babies with him? This is a dilemma and frankly I just don’t know how to solve it. Can’t flush a live fish; that would be wrong, right? (Please pick your jaws up, I am on the side of the animal/fish). I guess I could get a third tank and put it next to the babies and the hermit crab tanks. Oh my gosh, I just thought of something. Do fish inbreed? Wholly crap (please forgive me)! Are we going to have fish popping out all over the place? Clearly I won’t be sleeping tonight. I will be up trying to keep the boys away from the girls. Oh the life of a parent.

So, we have two four year olds, two dogs, two hermit crabs and 52 fish. The kids I’ll keep, the dogs are old and just want to lie around, the hermit crabs like to redecorate and then the fish… 

WANTED

Lots of free fish to a good home.

Must have own tank.

Send inquiries to me.

I realize this seems made up, but I assure you, it is a true story. I now have 52 fish. I didn’t this morning but I do now. On a side note, my son thinks that all animals poop out babies. I think I will save that discussion for another day. Welcome to my life.

By the way, click on the link below and donate, I’ll send you a fish.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

If You Like Snacks, Come With Me

What do you stand for? Who do you stand for? I have spent a great amount of time in my life asking myself the first question. As cliché as it sounds, I have asked myself, more than once, what is the meaning of life. I have always felt that I have a greater purpose than just muddling by like the masses. Before pancreatic cancer came into my life, I was struggling to find my role in life. Wife, mother, daughter, friend, income bringer-inner and when my mom was diagnosed I added grieving daughter; how to manage those and still feel like a human was the challenge. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mom, wife, friend and daughter. But something has always been missing….me.

Music has been important to me throughout my life. When I was little I would listen to Wacky Westerns and Elvis. As I aged, Elvis and whatever was trendy was what I played. It’s funny how I can hear a song and it takes me right back to a particular time, some were good, and some were not so good. Regardless, I can pair certain events in my life with certain songs. I know I’m not the only one, but in my mind it is my special gift. The last three weeks of my mom’s life were difficult. I think I have driven that home a time or two. My drive to her was no less than an hour and a half, each way. So, I had some time to listen to music. Many times I listened to my kids DVDs or CDs. Simple songs about not hitting or just the alphabet. I did listen to mainstream music too. One song in particular just seemed to play every trip. You have to understand here that I rarely listen to the words. The song had no special meaning to my situation; it just played on the radio…a lot. I hear it sometimes and suddenly I am driving by myself to see what pancreatic cancer did to my mom since I saw her last. Those feelings of what am I going to see or find come pounding back. I like the song and I always listen. I imagine that she is still here. CRAZY! I know! 

There is another song that I have heard a few times. I looked it up, watched and listened. I listened to the words. That is why I am asking, what do you stand for? I thought about it all the way home today. 

What do I stand for?

Tough question, isn’t it? I’ll answer. 

I stand, first and foremost, for my babies. I am their voice, I am their biggest fan. 

I stand for my husband. Smartest person I have ever known. He saved me from a life I wasn’t looking forward to.

I stand for my mom. She can’t anymore. 

I stand for every person who has pancreatic cancer. They have enough to worry about, so I will fight for a cure for them.

I stand for their families. They feel exactly like I do. It’s not fair.

I stand for everyone who will be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Today they may have no clue, but tomorrow their world will turn over. They need people in their corner.

I stand for those who have donated. They gave selfishly to this fight. Some because they know me, some because they know the disease.

I stand for those who have not donated because many have no idea what this beast will do. 

Many think they are immune to it. I will stand for you too.

What is my purpose? My purpose for now is to be a wife, mother, fundraiser and a fighter of pancreatic cancer. My purpose is to raise money for a cure. My purpose is to stand for my mom and for all of those affected by pancreatic cancer.

I always thought there should be a commercial that shows people who have the disease, friends and family each standing one at a time in front of a camera. Their eyes would pierce through the screen and they would simply say, “I am the face of pancreatic cancer. I am the face of a fighter.”

I’m not in television; I can’t even get them to notice my cause. But I will say this; 

I am the face of pancreatic cancer! I am the face of a fighter!

What do you stand for? 

Who do you stand for?

While you are thinking, come stand beside me. Fight with me. Who knows, I could bring snacks, I’m a good cook.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBq1E1gbPhY&feature=share

If the Puzzle Pieces Don't Fit, Is It Okay to Jam Them Together and Move On?

Today I feel like I am spent. I really feel like I have nothing more to say, but then that isn’t true because here I am typing.

My mom took center stage last night in a dream. I didn’t like the dream. She was dying. She wanted my dad, brother and me beside her and when we gathered, she fell face first into the pillow. I must have been sleeping that way because it seems strange that I would dream it like that. In the next instance, she was up walking around, still dying, but not dead. She mumbled but never really talked. What does all of that mean? I have no idea.

I cried a lot yesterday, just missed her too much. It seems like each month that passes, I miss her more. I thought it was supposed to get better. At least that is what everyone, and I mean everyone has been telling me. So far, they are wrong. It has been four months. Four really long months. My husband says it has gone by fast. Not for me. I use to call her on my way home from work. She was either first or second on my list of people to call when I had news. My biggest fan is gone….still. I wish God would let her come back, just for one minute, to tell me how to be. It won’t happen and I know that, but still, I wish it would. 

I have a great life. I can’t complain but then most people say that and then turn around and complain about something. Really, I am blessed and I try not to take anything for granted. I am just sad. Not all the time, but in spurts. It’s the same as when she was sick; I was never sad for long stretches. I think I save my sad days up and then let them all come out at once. I don’t do it intentionally; I just have so much other stuff that I have to push the sad back and keep moving. I’m guessing it isn’t the healthiest way to deal, but it just sort of happens. I have considered grief counseling. It doesn’t appeal to me, but it could help. There is a class at my church. As luck would have it, it meets at night when we have soccer practice. By the way did I mention that I volunteered to coach my daughter’s soccer team? Clearly I love to pile things on. So grief counseling at my church is out. I’ll keep writing. I’ll either figure it out or someone will tell me I am doing it wrong.

I think there have just been too many firsts that have happened and I miss telling my mom. People say that she sees us, that she knows what is going on. I’ve said it before, I don’t think so. If the folks in Heaven were able to watch us, know what is going on, they would be heartbroken at the sight of their loved ones grieving and struggling to build this new puzzle we were all given. If that were the case, then Heaven wouldn’t really be Heaven would it? No, my mom is living peacefully, without worry, pain, suffering or heartache. My mom is in Heaven. I know that for sure. Selfishly, I wish she was here. I am wondering what that says about me. I am wishing that my mom leave Gods Kingdom and come back…here. Who would ever want to do that? I am happy for her and I look forward to our reunion, many, many, many years down the road but all I want is 60 seconds. 

I mentioned a puzzle a few lines ago. I love puzzles. As I type, my daughter is putting one together with joy and contentment. I don’t like this puzzle that I’ve been given. It doesn’t want to go together. I am starting to think that the pieces don’t fit. I never wanted it, but it is here and I have to figure it out. My Granny and I would put puzzles together and when one piece wouldn’t fit, she would jam it in and move on. There may be a lesson here. I’ll have to think about it. 

I'm tired, I think I'll put the puzzle away for now. It is just too much for this particular moment. I’ll try again tomorrow. 

Last night, as I was getting my son ready for bed, he told me that of all the moms, I am the best. I asked, “How many moms do you know?” He held up five fingers and then pointed to his thumb. “But this one is you mom.” As silly as it sounds, I am proud to be his most favorite thumb mom. In that moment, I felt loved and I felt joy. 

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

Who Is the Guy Sitting In Regis's Chair?

Preschool, day 2. This day was my test to see if I could really take my kids to school by myself. Could I get them up, fed, dressed and lunches packed and out the door with little or no incidents? I did and I only said one bad word (out of their listening range). I apologize for that. They quietly watched a dvd while I drove for what seemed forever. We made it. No tears, no tantrums and plenty of hugs and kisses. I will admit that I sat in the parking lot after for a little while. I cried…again.

As I drove away, I suddenly realized that I didn’t know what to do. I improvised and went to the grocery store. When I opened the door to my home, the silence was painful. My house is never quiet. What do I do? I did the only thing I could. I turned the television on for sound. I do have a question though. What happened to Regis???? Seriously, I know he retired, but who is the guy sitting next to Kelly now? I turned the tv off. Too quiet . The only sounds I heard were the a/c, fridge and the hermit crabs (Hermie and Princess). They are noisy when it is quiet. Who knew?

My husband summed me up the other day. I am just a girl who doesn’t like change who has been asked to go through too many this past year. He knows me.

I also don’t like to be alone. I can appreciate being alone, but it isn’t my preferred environment. I don’t want a crowd, just a few familiar faces and voices. I have been this way my whole life. Ironically, I moved away to college and lived by myself. Still didn’t like it, but I had cable. Never had it until I went to college. It was a whole new world.

I have not been alone for four years. When the babies came, well, I just had a constant audience. I take that back, there was one day, one very bad day that I was alone. A friend decided to take my kids to play. I was alone in my house…for about two hours. That was the day my mom called to give me the news. I wonder if that is part of the reason I have been dreading this day. I have thought of her a lot, but I haven’t been sad about her. Just sad that my babies are out “in the world.” 

Several hours have passed and I am blessed again with the joyous noise of two children playing, fighting, crying and laughing. I am happy. They are home and all is right again. Day two of preschool, success. We all survived. Just a side note here, Noni, Fella and Mouse Mouse were in their backpacks. At least I know they have their security entourage with them. I love my babies.

You may have noticed that I have taken a break from the constant asking, begging and pleading for a dollar donation to PanCan. I needed that break. It wasn’t 100% because I have been thinking and planning. My break is over. If you haven’t donated, this is a great time to do it. Why? Well why not?

People are getting diagnosed every day. People are suffering every day. People are dying from pancreatic cancer every day. There are a lot of cancers. Many have good odds. Pancreatic cancer does not. If you get a diagnosis today, there is a 94% chance that you will not be here in five years. There is a big chance that you will not be here this time next year. We need a cure and the only way to do that is for you and everyone you know to click on the link below and donate a dollar. Give me one good reason why you aren’t doing that right now.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBq1E1gbPhY&feature=share

Oh To Be a Stuffed Animal Today

Have I mentioned that I live in a bubble and hate change? Have I also mentioned that I have had a difficult year? Wasn’t sure so let’s recap.

In the last year, my mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She chose treatment, she chose to fight. Unfortunately surviving wasn’t her destiny. In the last year, my mom passed away. Just before, my cat of 15 years died of the same thing. Two months after my mom left, a dear friend that I have known most of my life passed away, same thing. Last week one of my favorite aunts passed away. Not pancreatic cancer. We have had numerous fish and two frogs that have left as well. Fish are sort of disposable pets so I am going to say they died of natural causes. Although the frogs wouldn’t come to the surface to eat, hmmm I wonder if we caused that one. 

Today I let my babies out of the bubble. Today my babies started Pre-K. My sweet gifts from God went out into the world with their backpacks and lunch boxes. My babies aren’t my babies anymore. I hate change. I cried. I’ll cry some more on Thursday because that is when they go back….that is if they go back. Nah, they will. I’ll take them. That is the right thing to do and my mom told me not to shelter them. 

Change breaks my heart. My babies don’t see it as change. They see it as sort of freedom. They are a big boy and big girl now. They tell me that a lot. 

So in my never ending efforts to control my environment, we sent them to school in style. New clothes, my daughter had a new necklace, new backpacks, new lunch boxes, new water bottles. I even made them nap mat covers with their names and matching blankets. If my kids have to exit the bubble they are going to do it looking as good as possible. 

At the beginning of this year, I asked my mom why she was putting her body through the treatment. It was killing her and she was sick most of the time. She said “time.” “I need one more day. One more day to see your babies start school.” Well, I cried.

I wanted her here so much today. She was in my thoughts and my heart. My mom was and is an educator. She would have been proud of my babies. I knew she would probably leave before this day and it broke my heart then and it breaks my heart now. But, I sent my babies out into the world to start their journey towards whatever life has in store. I did that. I can’t take that back. I will never get this day again. 

My babies had fun. They didn’t cry, one small accident but they were strong and courageous. I wish I could be more like them. I will say this though; in their backpacks they each had a favorite baby, Noni and Copper. Oh to be a stuffed animal today.

I am so proud of my kids. They are my family and I am so blessed. They miss their Emmy but this day was about them, so I hid my sadness. It was a hard day. You see, as much as my mom and I wanted her to be here, she wasn’t. 

Today is my mom’s birthday. My babies started school on my mom’s birthday. I hurt a little more. But what a tremendous gift to have these two events happen on the same day. My mom was here. My mom saw her beautiful grandbabies start school. I can’t think of anything better. She would be proud.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBq1E1gbPhY&feature=share