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captainsblogOur own mothers are long gone, and our daughter has been out of the house for over a decade and out of state for the past several years. She and Eleanor have had a periodically difficult relationship from way back- much of the "way back" before I was aware of it- but the strife between them never hit the depths of outright ostracism among family members that sometimes marked my own relatives' connections among themselves. Later this month, I will celebrate, if that's the word, 40 years since my Cornell graduation- a ceremony where my now-surviving sister had to sit separately from our other then-sib and the rest of the fam, and was not invited to join us for the fancy-dress dinner that followed.
So, no, nothing quite that extreme in our little nuclear family. (Isn't it weird that we use a term most associated with the deadliest of weapons to describe our most basic familial structure? Nah.) But the silo doors do still open on occasion, and "occasions" are probably the ugliest instances. Eleanor has been jonesing all day for just a quick phone call from the kid. She assumes that the non-call is a statement in and of itself. Maybe it is, or maybe it's just said kid being overwhelmed in a faraway place with little family, bizarre politics and attitudes, and oh there's still that matter of a pandemic going on? I could call or text her and solve the problem in a second. I've been asked not to and I wouldn't have, anyway. (Emily does occasionally read this, so if you do, call. But only if you want to.)
Eleanor's had others to mother to, though- particularly the oldest of the four-pawed patrol under this roof.
----
As I noted about ten days ago, our oldest cat Zoey, who we adore, has had an adverse reaction since the arrival four weeks ago of the second try at a second boykitteh. How much of that is directly connected by physical things and how much is emotional reaction, nobody's quite sure. She retreated from public life for most of her days, hiding out in the cellar until we reconfigured the room we already use to feed her in, adding a water bowl and catbox plus the "all night wicker place" she had already taken to on occasion:
The vet saw her two Tuesdays ago, and prescribed some antibiotic drops for the sticky-shut eye condition that was, and still is, the physical manifestation of the issue. She does not like the drops. Frankly, neither did we, and we weren't as diligent as the label suggested (every two hours to start). After a week of only slight improvement, we made a second call and were offered three alternatives:
- a similar concoction of drops, only anti-viral;
- an oral liquid antibiotic, liver flavored but otherwise essentially the "pink stuff" that every parent of a human child has to dispense at one time or another; or
- a horse pill (good luck getting THAT down this wildwoman's throat).
We checked their recommendations and the Wegmans pharmacy, and wound up ordering the first; it hasn't even shipped yet, because they typically only send things out M-Th because handling gets worse on the weekends. In the meantime, we've been more diligent about the two-hour bit, written schedule and timers and stumbling round on overnight pee breaks to get an extra one in, and....
she's better. Not all better, and still favoring the wicker, but she's been meowing to come out, either to cuddle overnight as she generally often will or, as just now, returning to picking her own spot in the house. We're trying to make sure the boyz stay away from annoying her too much- that's what they've got each other for, after all;)- and if this med shows up, well, it won't go bad anytime soon and we'll have it if we need it.
ETA. Annnd just now, the kid sent a Happy MD text to the Mom.
So, no, nothing quite that extreme in our little nuclear family. (Isn't it weird that we use a term most associated with the deadliest of weapons to describe our most basic familial structure? Nah.) But the silo doors do still open on occasion, and "occasions" are probably the ugliest instances. Eleanor has been jonesing all day for just a quick phone call from the kid. She assumes that the non-call is a statement in and of itself. Maybe it is, or maybe it's just said kid being overwhelmed in a faraway place with little family, bizarre politics and attitudes, and oh there's still that matter of a pandemic going on? I could call or text her and solve the problem in a second. I've been asked not to and I wouldn't have, anyway. (Emily does occasionally read this, so if you do, call. But only if you want to.)
Eleanor's had others to mother to, though- particularly the oldest of the four-pawed patrol under this roof.
----
As I noted about ten days ago, our oldest cat Zoey, who we adore, has had an adverse reaction since the arrival four weeks ago of the second try at a second boykitteh. How much of that is directly connected by physical things and how much is emotional reaction, nobody's quite sure. She retreated from public life for most of her days, hiding out in the cellar until we reconfigured the room we already use to feed her in, adding a water bowl and catbox plus the "all night wicker place" she had already taken to on occasion:
The vet saw her two Tuesdays ago, and prescribed some antibiotic drops for the sticky-shut eye condition that was, and still is, the physical manifestation of the issue. She does not like the drops. Frankly, neither did we, and we weren't as diligent as the label suggested (every two hours to start). After a week of only slight improvement, we made a second call and were offered three alternatives:
- a similar concoction of drops, only anti-viral;
- an oral liquid antibiotic, liver flavored but otherwise essentially the "pink stuff" that every parent of a human child has to dispense at one time or another; or
- a horse pill (good luck getting THAT down this wildwoman's throat).
We checked their recommendations and the Wegmans pharmacy, and wound up ordering the first; it hasn't even shipped yet, because they typically only send things out M-Th because handling gets worse on the weekends. In the meantime, we've been more diligent about the two-hour bit, written schedule and timers and stumbling round on overnight pee breaks to get an extra one in, and....
she's better. Not all better, and still favoring the wicker, but she's been meowing to come out, either to cuddle overnight as she generally often will or, as just now, returning to picking her own spot in the house. We're trying to make sure the boyz stay away from annoying her too much- that's what they've got each other for, after all;)- and if this med shows up, well, it won't go bad anytime soon and we'll have it if we need it.
ETA. Annnd just now, the kid sent a Happy MD text to the Mom.