We have mealworms in the refrigerator and crickets in the kitchen. No, we are not on a weird new protein diet, nor are we under some spring alien bug invasion. These less than warm and fuzzy creatures are food for our lizards, which have opened up the latest chapter in our family pet saga. A psychologist would say that I was reacting to a childhood deprivation and going to the other extreme as an adult, indulging my children in the pets I never had.##M:[more]##
These lizards, actually a variation called “anoles,” (accent on the second syllable — yeah, I’d never heard of them either) came into our home as part of an honors biology project, but have become the focus of special attention of the nine-year-old boy, who is the living incarnation of the childhood rhyme that answers “snakes and snails and puppy dogs tails” to the question “what are little boys made of?”
Unexpectedly, he has shown a soft-hearted side when it comes to the lizard feedings. Initially fascinated, he is now repulsed when it comes to dropping the crickets into the cage to become the immediate prey of the ravenous scaly beasts below. Conversely, I remain morbidly fascinated by the squirming legs and antennae as the insects are hunted down and seized in the hungry maws of their predators.
“I can’t believe you’re watching that, mom,” he says to me, but the child still inside me that once wanted to be an entomologist (yeah, hard for me to believe as well), can’t help but observe and ponder such questions as
1.) Do insects have developed enough nerve systems to feel pain in the same way we do?
2.) Are they psychologically mature enough to understand the imminence of death?
3.) Do they have any concept of “fight or flight” and do they communicate with each other to issue warnings?
The growth of our menagerie continues with the addition of yet another new family member: a long-haired teddy bear hamster lovingly named “Cheezit,” in part because of his golden, orange coloring, and hopefully, not because he is appetizing in any way, to our dog, Chloe, who appears frantic with desire to find out how Cheezit might taste. The door to Will’s room remains fortified and a sign warns of doom to anyone who forgets to close it securely.
We did have another hamster once-upon-a-time, and I had sworn never to travel down that road again, having donated hamster and deluxe hamster condo to a friend, once he bit Molly and killed the romance.
I reminded Will of this unhappy episode, to which he responded, “mom, I was three years old at the time. I had nothing to do with that hamster and I shouldn’t be punished just because of Molly.” He did have a point. It would have been unfair to deprive him of a hamster just because of Molly’s negative experience. And that’s what I told my husband when he gave me a look upon Cheezit’s homecoming.
Spring is a time, indeed of warm and furry things: hamsters in the house and bunnies in the bushes. It’s a time of rejuvenation and new beginnings, the season of joyful celebration, which includes Easter, Passover, communions, weddings, and graduations.
The slow transition to summer signals a time for endings and goodbyes. This week I played my last choral concert at Town Center School, where Will is graduating from the third grade. It’s been three years since he volunteered me as the accompanist and it has been one of the joys of my life to have to sit down and play music with the children, something I would never have time to do otherwise.
I’ve watched these kids grow in height and confidence from very small first graders to the big kids in the school, ready to make the big leap to a much larger pond and I am so proud of all of them.
One word before I close this column. Lynn Miller of this newspaper interviewed me for the feature that appears in this issue, one of the rare occasions that I found myself answering questions instead of asking them. It’s funny being on the other side: you say something and find yourself remarking, well please don’t print that, and I all but had to bite my tongue to refrain from asking (as so many of my interviewees so often do) can I read it before it goes out?
This of course, is all to publicize my book signing this Saturday, May 3, from noon to 3 p.m. at Borders. After years of saying that I was going to collect my favorite Suburban Mom columns and compile them into a book, I have finally done so.
Just as one never seems to escape the anxiety dream that you’ve forgotten your locker combination of you haven’t studied for the math test, I’m discovering that one is never too old to suffer the pangs of what if I throw a party and nobody comes? My variation on that nightmare is what if I have a book signing and nobody shows up? Accckkkkk! It’s very scary.
So to my friends one and all, and to my faithful readers: I am grateful for your support so come out, come out, wherever you are, and come to Borders on May 3. I hope to see you there!
Editor’s note: For more information abnout the Suburban Mom’s appearance at Borders, please turn to page 26.
