RIP Sea Monkeys

The sea monkeys I got when we were in La Quinta have finally succumb to the forces of nature (i.e. Ella).

Yesterday, yet another day of Ella havoc, after she had finished eating dinner, Ella headed over to the table closest to the sea monkeys.

"Ella, don't touch. Look only," I admonished.

"Wook onwy, no touch?" she asked.

"Yes, look only," I said.

She then grabbed the lid off the top of the container. I told her to put it down and reached for the container to try to get it off the table before it spilled. She quickly threw the lid across the kitchen and grabbed the container.

"Ella! Put that down! It will spill and all the sea monkeys will die!" I yelled.

She looked me dead in the eye before dumping the container upside down, water washing over the table, onto Sammy still eating her dinner and the floor. There was no hope. No way to recover them. They were gone.

"TIME OUT, ELLA!" I screamed.

She ran to her time out chair and sat there until I had finished cleaning the mess.

As soon as they had spilled, Sammy started crying. Once I had banished Ella, I picked up Samantha and wiped her tears.

"Are you crying because of the Sea Monkeys?" I asked.

She shook her head no.

"Then why are you crying?" I asked.

"Because my skirt got wet and now it's dirty and I can't wear it," came her reply.

Luckily, our friends, Troy and Vivian, after reading about the previously-dead-miraculously-resurrected tank, got us a lovely sea monkey castle. So, there are still sea monkeys in our house. They are still on the kitchen table because I honestly have no other place to put them.

Ella seems to have realized her mistake. After she said, "More baby sea monkeys" and I told her no, they were all dead, she seems to understand. She points to the tank and says, "All dead".

Hopefully, she'll leave the other tank alone.

It's a Sea Monkey Miracle

To catch you up in our ongoing Sea Monkey Saga: I finally got my parents to buy me sea monkeys and then managed to kill them off creating a serious mourning episode for Samantha.

Today's new development: There are three sea monkeys in the tank! They are little, but I definitely see three. I think maybe there were some unhatched eggs. I saw them and took my little straw and aerated the crap out of that tank. There will be no more dead sea monkeys!

Samantha is still at school, so she doesn't know. I just know my little drama queen will squeal in delight and hug me like it's Christmas.

My Sensitive Girl

Samantha is my sensitive little girl. By that, I mean she cries over just about everything. In the last couple months it has escalated to almost daily tears over pretty silly things.

I've already written about her ant heartbreak. She also has a proclivity for snails, apparently. We regularly find snails in our yard, in our sandboxes, in our playhouses, in our garden, everywhere. The girls are really fascinated by them and their slimy little bodies. Samantha learned last month that when a snail's shell breaks, it dies. This has not stopped her from screaming when she sees one and having me chuck it over the fence or anywhere out of her sensitive sight.

However, on the rare occasion she is interested in touching a snail, it becomes a sacred creature worthy of deep empathy. One day last week, some snail caught her fancy and she proceeded to hold it and examine it. Ella, ever the copycat, wanted to hold it also, so Samantha placed it with great care into her little sister's hands. Little sister, startled by the cool sliminess, dropped the snail and it landed on the concrete patio with an echoing crunch. Samantha's lower lip quivered and tears began to spill from her eyes as she turned, running to my arms to be comforted for the loss of her beloved snail, what's-his-name. She talked of the snail often that day, reminiscing what a good snail he had been, and how sad it was that Ella had killed him by cracking his shell.

Today, yet another tear producing event occurred: the sea monkeys all died. Sean and I had both suspected a complete die off of the tank this weekend, but this morning, for sure, there was nothing swimming around in the tank. (I believe it to be a poor aeration issue, as in, I haven't been aerating the tank with my straw.)

Samantha asked to see them, so I said, "Oh, Honey, I think they're all dead." Her face dropped and she turned back to her oatmeal, hunched over. I noticed drops splattering off the table.

"Samantha?" I asked.

She turned to me, unable to contain her sadness, and jumped into my arms, burying her face in my shoulder as she sobbed for her poor sea monkeys who had such a short life.

I now see all the disappointments and death that surround a four year old's world. I try to shield her from it, but it's all around, and if it isn't, Samantha finds something to cry over. She is my sensitive little artist.

And, although I hate seeing her so upset over what I consider silly little things, every time she mourns an insignificant little creature, I smile. She has learned empathy. We've done something right.

P.S. We will be ordering more sea monkey eggs, and an aerator. (And maybe some food that makes them red, because that's just cool.)

Sea Monkey Natural Disasters

One of the great things about having kids is being able to relive your childhood by buying them toys you loved or wished you had when you were a kid. My sister is definitely on board with this idea, having already bought Samantha an Easy Bake Oven and one of those spinning disc art things.

I have my own list of things I never had, but wished I did, and plan to buy for my girls as they get a little older: shrinky dinks, an ant farm, and a chemistry kit top that list. Also on that list are Sea Monkeys. If you don't know because you were deprived as a child, like I was, Sea Monkeys are little shrimp that you hatch in a container of water and watch swim around. At first, they're tiny, but they grow to about a half inch long and live a couple of years. You can buy toys for them and special food, or just watch them tool around. They're cool, really, they are.

While visiting my parents last week, my parents bought each of us girls a little something at the Children's Museum gift store. The girls each chose a doll, while I got Sea Monkeys. I set them up on Monday, and now we have tiny Sea Monkeys swimming around. I show the girls every day, I'm not sure if they've actually seen them yet, but they say they do.

Because the girls are still pretty young, I had to tell them not to touch the container. I pictured them grabbing it and spilling all the poor little sea monkeys all over the place. Those poor sea monkeys would experience an apocalypse.

Today was the first day to feed the sea monkeys. I gathered the girls and fed the little guys while they watched. We also need to aerate their tank, which can be done by simply blowing bubbles in with a straw. I figured the girls could handle that. I gave Samantha the straw, and she blew with great enthusiasm, so much enthusiasm that water splashed out of the tank, along with a few sea monkeys, I'm sure.

A tidal wave had hit their home. The survivors are just grateful to be alive and are hoping for no aftershocks. From now on, Mommy will aerate the tank.