anxieties of varying importance

It appears that we’re on Zombie Lizard Death Watch, Part Four.

Dammit.

Steve looks pretty good still, but he hasn’t eaten in close to a month.  He was such a great eater when we first got him – chugging down his mealworms – but that might be the reason for his downfall.

Because we live a good 35 minutes from the pet store that sells his food, I stocked up on two containers of mealworms.  I mean, RIGHT??!  They stay all cold and hiberated in the fridge, and come back to life when they warm up and you feed them to the lizard.  Apparently, though, according to teh interwebs, if you feed your gecko living mealworms that are too old they might be too tough and will constipate the lizard.

***MAJOR EYE ROLL***

I told Rockinrolla that I would give the frickin-frackin gecko a flippin-flarkin SITZ BATH today in warm water and saline.  GAH.  I’d take him to the damn reptile vet except we’ve been down this road before, multiple times, and I know how the reptile vet visits play out: Well, there’s really not much we can do for him.  We took his weight and measurements and temp, here are some vitamin drops, that’ll be $150 bucks, please.  I still have the vitamin drops from Ellen, the last gecko, so I’m going to just skip that step.

I think the whole pet lizard market is a racket.  It’s like in-vitro: they get you all excited by showing you the happy outcomes (Lookee! Happy children with fat, healthy lizards!  Reptile keeping is FUN and EASY, kids!) and get you to fork over the dough for all the accessories, along with the animal, and then act all befuddled when it didn’t work out.  (Whazzthat??  Your lizard died??  That’s just UNHEARD OF!  Must be a totally random event, you should definitely TRY AGAIN.)

ALSO: Daddy J and I realized that we are totally findable by the birthparents, should they want to find us.  Which probably wouldn’t happen, or be an issue, but there are scary cases of birthparents, like, moving to the neighborhood and wanting to hang out a lot with the adoptive family.  Which might be totally FINE since these birthparents appear to be wonderful, but it would have been nice to not even let that be a consideration.

Their social worker screwed up and told them the state we were from.  Which, fine.  Then we told them we were from the southern part of that state.  In a very small town.  That has its own private school.

So, yeah.  It would take probably half an hour on a computer to find us.

Again, probably no biggie whatsoever.  Also, the happy-family-adoption-magazines report that the more open the adoption is, the happier the child will probably be. 

So, huh.

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