i should be in bed but i'm up crying instead

Something very "Dr. Seuss-ish" about the title, no?

It wasn't a very good birthday. It was mostly good--I'm always aware of my blessings--but the bad parts weren't very good.

We've got a gerbil down.

About 5 minutes before it was time to pick the big boys up from school, I stepped into the bathroom to do my "bathroom business", then went to round up Liam and James to go. Liam was coming out of Zane and Ethan's room with the unmistakable look of *uh-oh* on his face. He tried desperately to get the door closed before I could go in. I made it past him.

I found Cinnamon and Spice (Zane and Ethan's beloved gerbils) running around on the little pool table in the room. Now Liam had seen his brothers get the gerbils out and do this before--so that, in itself, was not naughty. What WAS naughty was that A. he is not suppose to be in his brother's room without asking them or me to go in first and B. He is never, EVER suppose to play with their gerbils.

And here's where it takes a sad turn:

You could tell he'd tried to pick the gerbils back up to get them in their cage and couldn't do it (they're wicked fast), but that he'd apparently caught Spice (Zane's gerbil) by the tail.....and pulled it off.

Seriously--there was the furry stub of her tail on the pool table, and her running around with exposed bone, bleeding everywhere, but fine other than that. "Degloving" it's called, and gerbils, according to google, are prone to it.

Sick yet? I was.

I picked the kids up from school, then left the big boys in charge while I rushed the gerbil to the vet --knowing I would be using my tuition money for whatever it is they were going to do to her (googling had told me amputation was necessary, and the odds weren't good)--but unable to look at my otherwise very stalwart 11 year old's tearful face and tell him I couldn't do anything. I had to do SOMETHING.

The vet confirmed the worst. The tail would become infected and the gerbil would die if it wasn't amputated. However, the chances of the gerbil surviving anesthesia were little to none. And it was going to be $300. Or for $25 I could have it put to sleep. I couldn't do it---spend that kind of money on a slim to none chance. I took my $25 option and cried all the way home.

Mostly I cried because I knew of the hard feelings that would now exist between Zane (11) and Liam (5). How do you fully forgive your little brother for killing your pet, especially when he was breaking the rules in the first place?

I came home and found them playing a computer game together. Zane said he felt sad and mad, but that didn't and wouldn't yell at Liam. And then he cried some more. I took them all to dinner and then we had birthday pie. And then he cried some more. I put them to bed. And he cried some more.

There will probably be more tears tomorrow. And I would be lying if I didn't say that I hate handling all this stuff on my own. I feel so incapable sometimes. Most times. Though I feel my faith is big enough to overcome my fear, it doesn't mean that I still don't have a healthy dose of fear for my boys and their future as children of divorce--especially with incapable me holding the wheel of life.

So--there you have it. I could think of better ways to spend my birthday than toting a bloodied gerbil in a tupperware container across town and worrying my children would grow up hating each other, but silver lining: there was pie involved. Banana Cream.

Asking for a few prayers for peace and unity and forgiveness in our little family again.

Thanks.