The Round-Tower

So Becca just came to me to tell me she’s missing Graying (the bunny) and kiss me goodnight. I do the usual loving on her, and then ask if she got enough to eat today (remember, this is my stick child who was in the hospital for so long this fall), and if she took her vitamins (lest she get so sick again), and how her head is feeling… and she says to me….

“It only hurts when I hit it.”

As if the bunny funeral held last night in a very cold pouring rain, after dark weren’t enough, Becca managed to trip over Seraiah’s foot and propel herself forehead first into the edge of a door. You can imagine (and sympathetically wince) at the resounding crack that was heard, and feel the muscles tighten along your neck in the all too brief silence that follows in preparation for the ear splitting screech of pain which inevitably results from such an impact. No parent can move quickly enough at such a time, much less overweight out-of-shape parents, but we do our best. Becca had a lovely dark blue crease running vertically along one side of her forehead and a goose egg was quickly making that crease ever deeper. She spent the night in our bed, wedged between us with an icepack draped artistically if not strategically across her forehead. The morning brought a definite reduction in swelling, but she remained in bed most of the day with a little nausea and dizziness which has since resolved. Life is never dull around these parts…

We took a few days to recuperate from the pre-Christmas work, but life doesn’t ‘hold’ well. Late Tuesday, December 27th, Micah’s bunny Grayling died. It was very sudden, as these things evidently can be with rabbits, and the whole house was suddenly plunged into mourning. I was at Nancy’s house having coffee and girl talk, when a sobbing dd showed up at the door and requested my presence with the news. The rest of the evening was spent in funeral preparations (which didn’t take place until the next evening due to the hour and dh’s return to work the next morning), and emotional counseling of the bereaved which basically constituted four children and the remaining bunny. My children are convinced that their pets go to heaven and wait for them in their house there, and this thought was voiced repeatedly in hushed and broken tones along with apologies and assumptions of personal (and completely unmerited) guilt (which of course were explained away). We battled the sniffles and sobs with stories of the various shared experiences we’d had with the bunny, and soaked many a tissue when the grief welled anew. I gently reminded the girls that bunnies tend to bond so tightly that they can mourn themselves to death if a companion dies, just in case this should happen, I wanted them to be prepared. While that may yet happen, the bunny seems now in more danger of dying due to lavish attention, feeding, treats and love in an attempt to comfort him and prevent such a loss. I suppose there are worse ways to go.

So, Christmas has come… ok, it came last Sunday but there ya go. My mom and step-dad came to stay, bringing lots of food with them to help round out the menu’s. Mom makes these homemade turtles the size of a small boulder and had made a box for each of us. The one for dh and I was as large as a small hat box… and I wonder how I managed to gain 50 pounds of pure cellulite over the past year. (Note to self, get rid of that by next year…) She also brought homemade bread, a three layer carrot cake (to die for), and two pecan pies. (What’s that you say? ONLY 50 pounds? shut. up.)

We were all tired and cranky by the end of the day, but it was glorious. I certainly hope we can convince Nancy to spend Christmas with us again.