Thoughts on baby mice.
Why I'm heating up water around the clock and unboxing tiny syringes.
[Trigger Warning: Pictures of tiny, just-born rodent to follow]
I got this text message from my friend Karen last night:
Hattie, my 6-year-old, is in class with Karen’s daughter, and Hattie loves sharing our home gossip (not unlike my substack approach). “Yes.” was my response.
“Yes, we have a pet baby mouse that cannot walk talk hear and doesn’t live in a cage. Yes.”
It all started on Sunday when I picked up the kids from their friend’s house after a sleepover. Apparently, the day before, they were walking through the woods and happened upon a postpartum mouse. Scared of the humans in her midst, she tucked her babies and scurried off, but one of them fell and was left on a log.
How could they not rescue this helpless newborn squeaker? Over the course of 24 hours, they kept “Twig” alive thanks to a freshly milked goat and their method of dripping said milk into its mouth via paintbrush every two hours.
By the time I saw them on Sunday, Demi, my 7-year-old, proudly declared: “Mom, we decided you’re going to take care of Twig since you work from home most days.”
I was incredulous. NO WAY. I AM NOT BRINGING HOME THIS TRANSLUCENT JUST BORN MOUSE AND FEEDING IT VIA PAINTBRUSH EVERY TWO HOURS.
“You’ll have to get kitten formula!” They said. “We googled it!” “Oh, and be sure to keep it warm!” “Once its eyes come in, you can switch to solid food!”
I looked around the room for someone save me from this fate. “This mouse is going to die, right?” I asked the other adults. “100%” everyone agreed.
I couldn’t help but think back to my kids’ failed cockroach adoption attempt a few weeks ago. “Bruce” and “Cocky” were found in the basement of our church and lived in a styrofoam cup jail during the service. The kids were convinced they would be adopted into the family, and were horrified when Brandon insisted they needed to be released back into the wild. Setting them free on a Philly block, they ran out of their styrofoam prison and were promptly squished by an unknowing passerby who justly thought cockroaches on the street should be squished.
My kids cried for two hours straight.
I didn’t want another Bruce/Cocky situation on my hand, and I am adept at delaying inevitable pain, so I gave up. I took a small Tupperware container with Twig nestled on top of a tissue and drove to the pet store.
And friends, I’m surprised to report that Twig is still with us. This tiny rodent with translucent skin and itty bitty whiskers is living in a Tupperware container on my counter and everyone involved is invested in his (?? to early to tell) future.
And, something is happening to me. My heart is cracking open. I’m building my schedule around Twig feedings, and I’m starting to look forward to feeding this tiny guy.
On Sunday, an article I read told me to put a warm water bottle in the mouse home and make him as comfy as possible. I ignored it.
Today, I’m heating water every two hours to fill a reusable bag for a luxurious water bed to cradle Twig after he’s had his fill of Kitten milk (Tom and Jerry would not approve of this arrangement.)
In just a couple of days, I’ve gone from being annoyed to rooting for this little life to blossom. I’ve gone from reading articles to confirm why you shouldn’t have a baby wild mouse to how to keep a mouse as a pet in less than 72 hours (the shelf-life of kitten formula for anyone curious).
Isn’t it interesting how our relationship with something or someone changes when we get to know them? It’s an obvious statement, but I have to keep re-learning it over and over.
As an educator, the more I know my students, the more I can meet their unique needs.
As a publisher, the more I know my audience and community, the better I can cultivate resources that help them.
We have this unique opportunity (every day) to provide life, nourish, and care for the ones in our midst. Not just Twig.
Inspiration
🎧 I just finished reading the Bullet Swallower. Recommend.
🎧 In Slow Productivity, the author claims that working from home isn’t always the best for inspiration. I’m making a goal to go to my favorite coffee shop at least once a week to do some deep work. Whenever I visit American Grammar, I experience community, delicious coffee, and inspiration.
Creative
🌟 Speaking of American Grammar, I’m trucking along with my first novel. My goal is 80k words and I have a new accountability writing partner to help me get there! As of today, I’m at 52815 (but who’s counting? 😂).
🌟 My current setup. I’m recording backing vocals whenever I get a break in my schedule. It’s not as often as I’d like it to be, but keeping this setup is keeping it at the forefront of my mind.
Thanks for subscribing and reading. I hope you get to experience some deep care this week.
Connect with my work elsewhere:
🎧 listen to my podcast with Kimberly McGlonn
💻 Order my children’s book, Rosie Rocks!
📚 visit my fair-pay publishing company, F-flat Books.
🎤 get songwriting support through Songwriting for M.E.