Playing the Grim Reaper

I was the scourge of pet rat society yesterday.

Being a rattie enthusiast and having gone a few years without having had any in the house, it's understandable that it was an exciting day when Kath & Kim came to live with us three weeks ago. They are an adorable pair of caramel coloured sisters and are a total joy - very tame, very snuggly.

With one small hitch - I realised last week, to my dismay, that Kath was pregnant. I was very firm about only wanting TWO rats. I had nowhere to raise babies until weaning day, nor the inclination, as much as I love them.

Kath gave birth to ten or eleven wriggling little thumbs on Monday afternoon and I found myself in a moral dilemma about whether to keep them or send them to rattie heaven. I choose the latter and disposed of them yesterday - very quick, very unmessy.

Then I realised I would make a totally hopeless serial killer, as the remorse I felt afterwards was unimaginable. It was as if I'd killed a CHILD... I felt terrible. The practical side of me was telling the bleeding heart to shut up; it was painless and had to be done.

However - I discovered that I am a fantastic liar: "I took them to the petshop in Petone, darling... yes yes, they have full nursing facilities until they're old enough to be weaned."

15 minutes of fame

I feel a bit famous. I saw my blog name on somebody else's "Blogs I read lots" links.

These are The Days of Our Lives.

I should really get my act together and post on this more regularly.. I must admit to becoming a bit of a voyeuristic blog-fiend of late; I really enjoy reading everyone else's and get a case of the envies when I see how great they are.

Something I have noticed about my literary endeavours: I use the words "just" and "really" over-enthusiastically.

I've been a bit busy over the past couple of weeks, supporting a depressed friend. It's very interesting being on the other side of the fence, as it's usually me busy being the tortured soul. Along with the usual feelings of worry and concern, I have been plagued (and alarmed) by envy, frustration and selfishness. I'm too ashamed to go into detail about these feelings right now, or to put them into context, but take my word that I'm not a bad person.

My friend's mother (which I am becoming increasingly incensed about) seems to have detached herself from any motherly responsibilities - by that, I mean providing emotional support to my friend. The family shows up at the hospital at intermittent occasions and put on a great show of being a Happy Family, but that's about as far as it goes, as far as I can see.

Funny that this went largely unnoticed until this situation developed - I was one who thought their family was awesome - parents were still together, great kids, Mum was one of the superwomen who worked, baked incredible stuff, kept an immaculate house and looked gorgeous. Then, when this situation came to a head, these quite large cracks started appearing. Maybe I'm not one to judge or get all self-righteous, but as far as I'm concerned, a mother's primary obligation to her children is to BE THERE when they need them, in whatever way, shape or form.