Life is Like a Box of Tadpoles

I have called my readers "Tadpoles" since my first blog "So You Own a Swimming Pool...And?". My older readers get the gag and my newer readers, I am sure are a bit confused. I apologize for that, but it all comes down to my first blog was based on Pooldad and my experiences running a swimming pool company and a customer that had a swarm of tadpoles in her pool one day.

Meh. It seemed appropriate and funny at the time. It stuck for me. So I hope you don't mind that I refer to you as tadpoles - I mean it in an endearing way and it always brings a smile to my face. True fact - it is accepted venacular in our home, i.e. "Hey kids want to know what the Tadpoles said today?" And they know exactly who I am talking about.

I preface the story I am about to tell with this explanation because it has become hard for me to post this past week. I know your world doesn't hinge on my world or whether or not I post but I have received a couple of emails and a phone call or two asking where the heck I am. With Lupus I guess you guys worry.

Nope, still here. Thanks for the concern, really. Sometimes I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you guys to read, share and talk to - you are a saving grace in an otherwise shut in kind of world.

Here is the crux of why I haven't been able to post - I have been presented with the happiness and the sadness of having tadpoles. On one side of the coin I get to share in the wonderfulness and the beauty of the birth of a new baby and on the other side one of my newer readers was presented with the death of her son a week ago.

I have gone from leaving happy, happy comments for the new parents to leaving heartfelt hugs and condolences to my newest tadpole, because I know. And I can't do much more - except avoid blogging about my mundane life and taking away from her sadness and pain.

Perhaps I make too much out of this internet thing. I suppose you all aren't really ever going to exist in my world physically, but you mean the world to me. I have watched you grow, live, have fun, suffer loss, succeed, share your best and your worst. In turn you all have supported me, cheered me and have completely taken me down a notch when I deserved it. It may all be virtual, but it still IS something. To me at least.

Sometimes you lil' vertebrates are hard to juggle, y'know? Kisses XO

This leads me into the ridiculous that is my life right now. And the vertebrate comment has a purpose. Bear with me.

The eldest is in ISC - which is an acronym for [I don't know what] an independent research class where Honors students do a year long Science Fair type project. This is not a project that is accomplished in one night over the kitchen table with Dad and Mom taking samples of water, etc. This sucker takes nine months and involves LIVE things.

Enter a box of 100 Tadpoles.
Ordered online.
No. I am not kidding.

Seems Miss Squirrel wants to research the effect of light on the growth of her lil' vertebrates and in doing so.....

.....wait for it.....

.....the Commonwealth of Virginia [hiss] has deemed it necessary that she have a Veternarian on call in case they require medical attention. Why? Because they are vertebrates. Meaning "having a backbone" and um....well now you see my overuse of the word.

[Stop laughing. STOP. This is MY world. I am living it, okay? Okay. I am laughing too. Shit.]

When she told me this two weeks ago I looked her straight in the eye, handed her the Yellow Pages and said "Find a Veternarian and good luck. I refuse to make this phone call. Your project, your heartache."

She didn't flinch, but? She didn't do it. Then she fell ill with the flu this weekend and guess when this special little Veternarian sign off form is due?

Tomorrow.

Guess what Skippy did yesterday? Embarrassed the hell out of myself calling around asking if the good Doctors of Northern Virginia did, really, take care of TADPOLES.

Seriously? My own Vet laughed at me. [Nice, not our Vet anymore] so I got online and went the exotic route. Do you know there are Veternarians out there that actually treat goldfish? And they are more than happy to sign off on this project and will happily be paid if anything happens to the lil' guys. Believe me I love all God's creatures, but transporting a tadpole to the Vet because light therapy in some way hindered it's growth/well being?

Find the shotgun. Now. I will shoot 'em.

I do have to say that this particular Practice is fabulous - from the receptionist, to the Doctor and the [I kid you not] reptile specialist. The RS is so geeked about this project that he gave the Eldest his card and she can contact him anytime she needs to discuss the health and care of her tadpoles.

Life has taken many opportunities to laugh in my face. And honestly? It has done a pretty damn good job up to this point.

But this? I called to find a Vet to take care of tadpoles? Huh?

I keep looking for the door a la' "The Truman Show". You know the one at the end when he steps out?

I know that sucker is here somewhere. I just need to find it.