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Monday, May 14, 2007Tender HeartA couple of weeks ago, Jonathan caught a toad. This isn't anything new around here. What's cool about it this time is that he caught the toad specifically for Maggie. So the latest addition to our ever-expanding family is the cute-n-spotted Bufo (which is Latin for "toad," in case you were wondering). When he presented us with Bufo at the "fishin' hole," Jonathan informed me that there were rows and rows of toad eggs right near the spot where Bufo had been...ur, kidnapped. It was fairly clear that Bufo was on "daddy duty," guarding these wee egglets from natural predators. It bothered me that Jonathan had stolen a toad who had such an obvious duty in life -- protecting his offspring. Still, Jonathan was so sweet to think of his sister. I didn't want to sound like some sort of wacky, I-love-the-animals sort, so I bit my tongue. Later that day, Jonathan arrived home with a large plastic bag. Inside the bag were rows and rows of toad eggs. Bufo's babies, if you will. "There was a snake skin floating in the water right near the eggs," Jonathan said. "I couldn't just let Bufo's eggs there." Oh my goodness. My son, Savior of Baby Toads. So now there's a plastic container on our front porch, complete with water, algae, rocks, air pump, and hundreds of week-or-so-old tadpoles. Bufo's private nursery service (of which he is blissfully unaware). The plan? Raise the tadpoles until they start growing legs and breathing oxygen, and then release them back to the wild as microtoads. And yes, they really do start out as microtoads. I've seen them. They are the tiniest, most perfectly formed little creatures I've ever laid eyes on. Unfortunately, they're hard to care for at home, so our previous experiences with microtoads have always ended tragically. Not this time. Bufo's babies are going to have a chance at Grown-up Toad Life on the banks of the Harpeth River. And that's the most recent outpouring of Jonathan's tender heart. He may not see it that way; in his pragmatism, I'm sure he sees it as "what I had to do." But I see more. I see a young man who cares enough about something small and helpless to go the extra mile. I see a young man giving back to the nature he loves so dearly. And I see a young man who is developing his daddy's heart more and more every day -- even through the care of tiny, orphaned tadpoles. I don't even wrinkle my nose when I look at the tadpoles. I love them. They signify so much that is beautiful and noble and endearing about my firstborn son. I've definitely evolved in my role as Mother To Male Children. And that's a good thing. I love you, my Jonathan. |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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8of my readers are feeling chatty:
After a day of catching turtles and gar, and chasing some geese, I brought home some more moss for the tadpoles. They are doing great.
Oh I can't wait for my firsts with this, my only, boy.
Just wait for the toadlets under your sheets. he he he
Jill, Belated Happy Mothers' Day!!!
How sweet. How darling. How precious. What a kid.
....now I do hope those eggs hatch into baby toads and not, say, baby snakes.....
Such a giving young man. I love it!
So sweet.
Oh my gosh. <3 <3 <3
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