R.I.P. Blue the Fish 2003-2005

Wow, hey, sorry for the long silence. It’s been quite a slog since the last entry, what with the month-long colds for everyone (Tim is still getting over his), the endless stream of work projects (this is good for our debt-elimination program, bad for mommy’s sanity sometimes), run-ins with termites and fencing companies and veterinarians, etc., etc.

So we’ll try to go about this in an organized fashion.

Me: Working hard, occasionally venturing out into the world with friends (complete with margarita last Sunday — ole!), mostly feeling like a juggler when it comes to work, kids, volunteer stuff, and, oh yeah, Tim. I’m down to one day a week for laundry, which is just crazy. But twice a week just ain’t happening anymore…

Tim: Also crazy with work. Tuning up and tricking out his Jetta with new tires and struts — that he installs himself. Oh yes, ladies, he’s handy, all right! Currently “my best daddy in the whole wide woild (sic)” according to Auggie. Awww!

Auggie: Mr. Motor mouth. I swear that I could easily take over the job of press secretary for the POTUS with the sheer number of questions that are thrown at me at any given moment by this guy. Is it sad that sometimes when I’m driving, I just turn up the music and stop answering for a little while? There’s only so many times that you can answer, “What street is this, Mommy? What street is this one, Mommy?” right?

Elliott: This guy is trouble. Into ev-er-y-thing. Pulling up on anything, no matter how rickety. His ear infection was gone in a flash, but the cold still lingers. I think today was the first time in weeks — weeks! — that I didn’t have to wipe his nose once. And, let me tell you, this baby really HATES having his nose wiped. Tim is convinced that he said, ‘bye-bye’ last night as we were leaving for FPU (Elliott is the class mascot.), but I think he’s just vocalizing his one and only consonant sound. Auggie talks enough for him, so not to worry.

Booker: Slim and trim, baby! He breaks our heart with the way he licks all the dog bowls clean after every meal. You would think that we were starving him! But the diet has really made a big difference for Booker. He was getting quite tubby there last fall.

Jake: Jake has a detached retina. And, despite our initial assumptions that he had gotten clocked by a certain three-year-old, it’s not a torn retina due to trauma. He’s had lots of (expensive) testing over the past month to find out that we don’t know why his retina detached. We know what didn’t cause this dachshund’s retinal detachment, however, so that’s good for some reason. He’s now taking a topical and an oral steroid, which will hopefully coax his retina back to where it’s supposed to be. Whether or not his vision will ever be restored in that eye remains to be seen. (Holy cow, I swear I did not intend to make that horrible pun. Yet I’m not taking it out because I have the teeniest soft spot for horrible puns. Interesting.)

Dogs are expensive!

Kirby: Thankfully, Kirby is still just Kirby. Still barking at inappropriate times. Still a complete wuss. Still a great dog to nap with.

Blue the Fish: Sadly, Blue is now swimming in that Big Fishbowl in the Sky. After two weeks of looking like he was going to go belly-up at any moment, not eating and generally creeping us out with the constant “Blue Death-Watch 2005″, Tim decided it was time to send Blue on his Final Journey and flushed him.

One funny moment in all of this with the fish: About a week ago, I was looking to see if Blue was still alive, and I saw him laying on his side, mouth not moving, gills not moving, nothing. I solemnly go to Tim and tell him that Blue is finally gone. As Tim is maneuvering to scoop the lifeless body of Blue out of the tank, Blue suddenly swims away, scaring the bejesus out of us both. Tim, without missing a beat, says, ‘I’m not dead yet!’ in his best Monty Python imitation. ‘I’m getting better!’ I added. ‘I might pull through!’ And then we laughed. Because we are heartless jerks.