*My daughter, Isobel, has always been a very empathetic person. I don’t know if it’s because she’s spent so much time in the hospital and physical therapy due to corrective hip surgeries for her hip dysplasia, or because she just came that way.
Yesterday, she was sitting on my lap as I scrolled through my Facebook feed. A new post in one of my groups popped up- a woman had found a very sick and very tiny kitten on her run, picked him up, and carried him the four miles back home. She was asking for help finding a vet on a Sunday… Is was very concerned, as the kitten looked pretty rough. I showed her how to do some research on Google, and we sent information to the woman on the group, along with some supportive messages. A bunch of other people in the group (it’s a great group) also helped her, and she ended up taking the kitten to a veterinary college two hours away, updating us along their trip. The group also suggested that she start a GoFundMe for the vet bills, and we all rallied to help… it takes a village, right?
It looks like they’ll be able to save the kitten, whose name is Chance. Isobel was so happy, she danced around the kitchen and requested her current favorite song to dance to (Knock on Wood by Amii Stewart (I KNOW!))…
And so, the first thing Is says to me this morning when she pops out of bed at 5:43 is…*
“Mommy! How’s the kitten? Is there a new picture?”
*At dinner, Isobel is telling Vaughan and Daddy about the magic flying socks she’s invented. Vaughan is trying to follow her story…*
“See, the socks fly off my feet, then they go down the basement stairs, then they get in the um, washer, and then they get into the dryer, and then they get all folded up nice, and fly back up the stairs, and land perfectly in my drawer! Isn’t that great?”
Vaughan gets a sort of glazed-over look and takes a sip of his drink, apparently considering the magic socks.
Dad says, “You mean Mom?”
*That’s right- I am the magic behind the socks.*
*Is climbs into bed with me this morning, complete with her new flamingo toy (okay, it’s really a squeaky dog toy, but she saw it at the pet store yesterday and flipped out, so now it’s hers) and a Valentine’s Day balloon. She’s tucked the flamingo in (Isobel is the Mommy) and is telling the flamingo a bedtime story. Apparently, my upcoming second hip replacement (scheduled for Valentine’s Day) is something Is has been thinking about…*
“Okay, this story is called, ‘The Aliens of Harmony.’ Once upon a time, Mom wanted to go to outer space, and the doctor said ‘wait ’til you get your new hip on Valentine’s Day,’ and she said okay and then she got in the rocket ship and blasted off into space. And then the aliens did some bad thing to Mom, but we’ll find out next time what that is.”
*Isobel’s class has all the kids doing holiday cards for each other- they’ll be making mailbags in class to collect the cards from their classmates. So, of course they’re due on WEDNESDAY, and we just started them today… anyway, we get to the card for a kid named J. (who is not a popular kid, Is has told us time and again that he does things the other kids don’t like, and he thinks he’s being funny when he’s not, and most of the kids don’t like him. Is is decorating the cards…*
“So, Is, what do you want to do on J.’s card? Glue some sequins, draw a picture… you don’t have to write ‘love, Isobel’ at the end, if you don’t want to, you can write ‘from Isobel’ instead…”
“No, Mommy, I’m going to make a good happy picture, and make him a really nice card, because maybe it will make him happy.”
“You are absolutely the nicest person I know, Is.”
“And I’m gonna put explanation marks after love, so then he’ll be really happy, because I’m shouting my love.”