I wish I was kidding.
For the past four years I have managed to keep not one, but now two kids alive and happy. There have been no broken bones (by the grace of God) no malnutrition, and generally everyone (including my hubby) seems to be thriving. However, in this time frame we have also gone through 2 fish, 12 plants, and now 15 ants. Yes, ants. I actually cannot keep alive something that survives in every climate in the world. Every climate but the home of Doctor Death.
It all started with Dory the fish. The LM desperately wanted a pet. My sister suggested a Beta because they are indestructible. Err were indestructible. Our first one lasted four months, the second 3. I PROMISE you I did everything to keep those damn things alive. I cleaned the bowl as instructed, treated the water, fed them their 2 pellets a day, I even had someone come to the house every time we were away for more than a day. How did they repay me? The died. Yep, they just decided to break the LM's heart and one day float belly up. F#@K%$S. We now have a no fish policy.
Then came the plants. I wanted to get some potted flowering plants. I thought it would be a nice touch in our home, and there is nothing more that I hate then watching cut flowers wilt away, it just seems like such a waste. Earlier this spring, the LM and I took a trip to our local nursery. I asked for the heartiest plants they had. I bought the fancy soil and the rocks, I re-potted them, gave them vitamins, followed the instructions to the last letter. What did they do? They all died. F$#@K those plants. They were too high maintenance anyway.
Next came the ants. My boy was obsessed with bugs this Summer. He also wanted a cat. For his birthday I figured we would kill two birds with one stone, and I bought him an ant farm. He called them his "pets" and was so excited to watch them tunnel in his room. They arrived a week later and we attempted to put them in their new home. I say attempted, because putting them in could not have been any harder. They come in a giant tube, which is somehow supposed to fit in a tiny tube. All the while there is a giant label staring me in the face that says, "DO NOT TOUCH THE ANTS, THEY WILL BITE AND STING." (Awesome, just what a four year old needs next to his bed.) After getting 2/3 of said ants in the farm (1/3 were lost as collateral damage) the damn things decided to do what everything does around here. Die. I fed them. I watered them (sort of.) I waited for their tunnels. What did they do to repay me? They buried the dead in one big pile so my kid could say, "why do all our animals die?"
Why? Because they all hate me. The plants too. I think for now we need to cool it on the "non-human" entities. At this point we'd be better off with another baby. Seriously.
All I can say is thank GOD we didn't get a dog.
Dory #1 in better times.
P.S. A quick update on Baby Gray. After a late night visit to the ER on Friday (probably unnecessarily) he is doing 100% better. The only lasting effect is that he has gotten used to sleeping in his swing (due to the need to sleep upright) and now I am going to need to invest in stock in Duracel. In completely unrelated news, the Rachel Zoe cardigan arrived and sadly it was much more "Vegas Showgirl" than "Uptown Girl." I've never been happier to return anything in my life.