The Worried Mother

I was not cut out for maternity. This is why I was wise enough never to have children.

And now there's another bunch of hatchlings in the porch light, squawking like crazy. The other day, I peered out of the kitchen window and saw one with his big head, yellow beak and one fuzzy wing half way out of the porch light, looking for Papa. "Hobart," I whispered (they are all named Hobart),"Get back in there!" And eventually he did.

On the same day, I saw a robin on the pine tree in my neighbor's back yard. The robin had a mouthful of twigs and grass and flew up into the gutters of Ma Maisonette. Oh, no, I thought. Stash had just cleaned the gutters. Then I decided I would not think about what Stash did with anything he found in the gutters.

But worst of all, Katy's got the goopy eye. Everyone's had the goopy eye. Last night, I put medicine in it. This morning, she crawled out of her new favorite hiding place, the closet in my study and walked over to me, reaching to be picked up. I picked her up and was instantly worried. She felt warm, too warm, and her eye was still yucky. In fact, she looked pretty miserable.

Oh no, I thought. Oh crap. No. Then I went off to check on Mo, who lately looks like an unmade bed. He felt hot, too. And Gussy felt like skin and bones. And Butch is so thin. No, I thought, no, not another one, not this year.

I know this is all because I feel I was not vigilant enough about Gracie from the very beginning. If I had noticed...if I had caught her in time...if from the very beginning I had been more affectionate toward her, it would have been so much easier to keep a weather eye on her.

I look worriedly at them all. And Dylan is in my lap as I write this, purring so loudly he's giving himself hiccups. He just put his head in the crook of my elbow.

This evening, I sat in the middle of the living room floor and was instantly mobbed. Taylor, Boris, Mo, Phoebe, Dylan swirled around me. And I thought about the little one who should be here but isn't.

I went on a quest for Katie a few minutes ago. She wasn't in any of her usual hiding places. Very fearful, I headed down to the basement. And did not find her there. She was, in fact, in my bedroom, sitting snugly in a chair with a thick folded blanket on it. She looked up at me, then settled herself in that much more snugly.