What is the lesson of our dead fish?

We got a small five-gallon fish tank a bit over a year ago. One of my daughter's friends got one for a birthday present at a birthday party that we attended, and she decided she wanted one too. Since allergies were preventing us from owning a cat or a dog, we agreed. The fish tank seemed the best way to go in terms of pet ownership, and pets are supposed to be good for your health and good for teaching kids life's lessons.

After a while we decided that one fish wasn't really enough. After checking with the some friends and the people at the pet shop we decided to get 2 more of the same variety. One of these turned out to be slightly larger than the other ones. Well we quickly nicknamed him "Bully". After moving into his new home he began biting the other fish. Soon the other new one died from it's injuries. However our little Pinky, who we had started with did not die. Eventually Pinky bit Bully back. Soon Bully died. We buried both fish in a corner of our yard with small graveside services. Life continued on in our home and we decided to just stick with the one fish. Obviously the tank was too small for sharing. When we lost power because of bad weather we worried about our little Pinky. When the power went out for a whole week my husband rigged up a complicated battery/inverter thing that let us run the water pump  and heater for a few hours a day. We poured hot water into the tank to keep our little Pinky from freezing (which we had to heat on a camping stove). We sheltered out the power outage in a hotel but we came home every day to make sure Pinky was safe. Pinky survived. What a tough little fish!

Time passed, months and months went by. Eventually we were feeling sorry for our little fish again. With no friends to play with, surely this social creature must be lonely. When the pet store put the bigger tanks on sale we decided it was finally time to upgrade. We got a much larger tank and very carefully prepared it. We tested the water, let the tank run for a few days, and made sure everything was just about right. Finally we moved Pinky in.

Pinky was in shock. He/she had never been in such a big home before. From a 5 gallon tank to a 29 gallon tank. He barely moved. I could feed him and he would react, but he seemed stunned. We tested the water again and it still seemed fine. We thought about moving him back to the smaller home but we were afraid that would just shock him more. We hadn't even gotten the new friends yet, we were just trying to get Pinky to adjust to his new surroundings. On the second day I brought my daughter home from school and he was not doing well at all. We all sensed it was urgent. Of course a vet couldn't really help us. I did the only thing I knew to do. I collected a water sample and we went to the pet store. They said our water was pretty good. We could add a little banking soda and some gravel from the old tank but really Pinky was just scared. Should we move Pinky back to the smaller tank (which was still on standby sitting empty)? No, probably not. He'll just be even more confused. He's just a little fish after all.  [If anyone is really wondering, he was a glo fish, a relative of the zebrafish.]

We had dinner and went home. When I went to the tank I could not find our little Pinky, and then we saw him. It was too late. He had gone on to Fish Heaven to be with his friends I guess.

In our hearts we were trying to cheer him up. Of course he didn't know that. He had survived so much. I am still just a little surprised that he is gone.

Did we do the wrong thing by moving him to a bigger home? I don't know. I feel like there is a lesson in here somewhere.

Is it better to live alone, in a small but safe home or is it better to go out into the big world and take some chances and possibly make a friend?

What do you think?

Christmas is getting closer still...

I had a little meltdown this morning. My child was having a meltdown because she was upset that she didn't own a blanket that was yellow. The kid has about a dozen blankets, but this morning for some reason she needed a yellow one for school. She screamed, I screamed, my husband screamed... it was getting us no where, and by the time we were done I was in tears.  After the ordeal was finally over, and the child had been delivered to school, with a blue blanket that belongs to my husband, we had a little heart-to-heart in the car. I did a lot of apologizing. My husband noted that every 3 or 4 days my mother cries her "crocodile tears" and NEEDS me for something, desperately and I go through hoops and loops trying to decide whether it's legit or not, and whether I want to help her or not. Each time I take the case individually and try to decide how to manage her in that moment and it's wearing me down, especially when the holidays are already a little crazy for us. We have a lot to do before the 25th, and I'm worried that it won't get done. I see my husband's needs being met (I think), and my daughter having a meltdown when we've been giving her a ton of stuff anyway, and then I just think that my own life is falling apart. So we had a little heart to heart, and he held my hand and reassured me that he was still there, and even though I was going a little crazy in these moments, he still loved me and we'd get through these next two weeks together. He's a good man.

I hope my mother decides not to renew her lease in July, and heads back to Florida as soon as she can. I'm pretty sure January weather is going to be one continuous bitch session from her.

I could post some examples of my mother's recent craziness, but I'll spare you. I'm grateful for a patient and loving husband today, and every day.