The Day the Frog Almost Died

Who doesn't want a pet for their children?  They teach responsibility, offer companionship, give glimpses into nature and God's awesome creation.  Yet of all the benefits, I never considered the gold nugget of Truth Micah would receive from "Creak", his brother's frog.

Yes, pets are wonderful.  I grew up with a plethora.  Unfortunately I didn't learn the responsibility of taking care of another life until I had my own little human forms to rear.  Somehow the iguana, mice, ferrets, cats, and dogs didn't shake me from my selfishness.  Brian grew up abounding in experience with animals, his family's livelihood depending on each member to keep their hog and chicken farm above water.  So we both want our children to experience the thrill and blessing of raising and keeping an animal.

Micah's top choice is a parrot, Jeremiah's is a supercroc (yes, the extinct kind), and Abigail is already overwhelmed with little sisters so doesn't much ask for pets.  But to compromise, we allowed my amazing parents to buy the boys 'grow-a-frogs' for a Christmas present.  Yes, order a tadpole through the mail and watch it grow into a frog!  Beautiful!  No amount of education on the life cycle of an amphibian will make near the impression of seeing it with your own eyes-- nay, not just seeing it, but nurturing it!  What can compare to feeding and raising the tadpole from its fragile infancy to grown adult froghood?    

So now begins our story....

In the extensive literature that came with the tadpole's home, we read that the tadpoles wouldn't be sent through the mail if the weather was too cold.  So we decided to put the ordering of the tadpole on the to-do list in March... after the baby was born.  So Kelaiah joins our family, and we order some amphibians. In the mix of having a new baby, researching new homeschooling curriculum, preparing and planning for heading overseas, and every other daily household activity that seems so much more overwhelming in those post-partum days... we receive our new little pets.  The boys are thrilled.  THRILLED.  "Oh, he's so cute!"  "Wow, he's moving his mouth!" "I think he's smiling!"  "I'll call him Jimini!"  "I'll call him Creak!"  And so it was.

Creak the little frog, and Jimini the tadpole arrive in two sealed little bags with the perfect water and food for only a few days.  They had been shipped over the weekend (why??) so we knew they'd be needing out soon.  As we prepare to fill up their new homes, we read that only bottled natural spring water will do.  Really?  Yes, quite adamant about this.  Not the distilled or tap water we had on hand?  Nope.  What to do?  A trip to the store on that evening wasn't possible, and I wasn't brave enough yet to take all five children to the store by myself to buy a jug of water in the morning... so we knew it would be another day before dad could pick something up on his way home from work.  This was very distressing news!  But in good faith we set the little baggies up in the honored position on the window sill above the kitchen counter to wait for dad's provision the following day.

In the meantime, the children were instructed not to touch the bags without permission or supervision.  Next morning, I'm nursing Kelaiah in the nursery, and a burst of drama is heard from the kitchen.

A very flustered Micah rushes in, "Mom!  The frog fell!"
I raise my eyebrows knowingly, "The frog fell, Micah?  And how did that happen?"  I'm picturing the little baggie lying on its side on the counter top.
"No!  Mom!  I-- I dropped it!"  His pitch is rising now.  The dramatic flare is about to reach it's climax, I sense.
"Now Micah, I told you not to touch those bags."  I'm still relatively calm at this point.  I think my voice is sufficiently chiding, but not too condemning.  I doing a great job, really.  I was unaware of the situation.
"Mom!!!" Yep, here it is, the kettle is screaming now, "the bag's on the floor, it broke open!  It's Jeremiah's frog!  Oh mom! Oh, OH, AGHHH!"
Kelaiah gets a startling finale to her brunch as I yank her off and fairly toss her in the crib.  I envision this little frog hopping all over my kitchen.  I imagine it finding a nice hiding space and drying up only to be recovered when we move everything out of the house... hopefully Micah and Jeremiah aren't the ones who find the little frog raisin, or jerky... whichever mental picture you prefer.  A mom can only handle so much drama you know.

Looking back, I like to think I remained calm, though I'm not sure I did.  Of course, compared to Micah I was as stoic as a sloth.  His fit is at an unsafe level of panic now.  He is horrified.  Simply horrified that he might have just killed his brother's frog.  But a I walk into the kitchen, I notice the Good Lord's sweet hand has once again preserved my sanity and I think, 'Oh, how He loves me!'  Yes, the bag is on the floor, yes it broke open, yes there is water everywhere, but the frog?  Well, in the tablespoon of water left in the bag, I see Creak-- completely unraisin-like and far from jerky.  I pick up the remains of the bag that is holding the life-saving tablespoon plus amphibian and am faced with a new problem.  Unfortunately I haven't completely calmed down yet from the first scare.

I fume, "Micah!  What do we know now?!?!  We don't have the right water to put him in?  What are we going to do with him until dad gets home!?!?"  I'm frustrated, trying not to be harsh... but I'm frustrated.  Why, oh why didn't he just leave the bag alone?  It wasn't even his frog!  Now looks what's happened!  I've got a kitchen to clean, a baby to nurse (who's crying by the way), and a frog to keep alive.

Then in a surprising act of clarity (which I was certainly lacking at this point) Micah quips, "Why can't we just put him in the water with Jimini?"

Ah, why don't we?  My blood pressure stabilizes as we follow through with this very good and only option.

And then comes the lesson.  Once all has calmed, and we know Creak is going to be okay, it sinks in.  I should have obeyed.  I see it in his eyes.  My sweet son wrestling with the weight of guilt and condemnation and the what-ifs.  Suddenly Micah and I are the only ones in the room, I think.  The others had been with us, Jeremiah being remarkably forgiving and Abigail just looking on, but now they've retreated to their previous points of interest.

"I forgive you, bud.  Jeremiah forgives you.  We all forgive you... you know Jesus forgives you.  Please obey me next time, okay?"  I'm weeping inside for joy at learning this lesson in a smaller matter and in empathy for the weight I see him carrying.  "Do you understand now why obedience is so important?  If something bad happens because you were obeying, then it's not your fault... it's mine.  But if you were disobeying, then it is your fault.  We are your covering, and when we ask you to obey, it's to protect you... so we can take the responsibility for things that go wrong... not you.  Do you understand, bud?"

He's crying, and feeling terrible, but he hugs me.  I know he understands, I can just tell.  He doesn't need to say anything.  I also know he's assured of my love for him and grateful for our covering over him.  He tells me he loves me, and I feel it.  We clean up the mess together.  Kelaiah gets the rest of her brunch.  Creak and Jimini are making acquaintances.  And I am a most blessed mother.