The learning curve on gerbils is interesting. It’s definitely not rocket science here, rather it’s a learn-as-you-go process. For example, these little guys like to tunnel, which means they’ll kick up all their bedding and we’ll inevitably have cardboard chips or paper pieces outside their cage (and on table or floor or whatever). I bought bedding with lavender bits because, ooh!, it smells nice! But then what I earned in positive odors got replaced by messiness. This bedding shoots straight through the bars of their cage and, ugh, is ending up everywhere. The gerbils also seem to like to pee on the upper levels of their house, not so much on the bedding. I refuse to be a gerbil pee-wiper (in addition to my other shall we say “low” tasks as in the home) so I think this simply means we’ll have to clean their cage more often.

But look at these pics! Livia learned to clean the cage last weekend and life already seems sweeter. She puts Shiloh in his kennel (Shiloh REALLY REALLY loves the gerbils if you know what I mean), Vice in the ball and Whiskers in his wheel car, and then we collaborated to make a new home for the rodents.

In the past few days I have laughed more than once as I fed the fish—after hollering, “Has anyone fed the fish today?”—or refilled Shiloh’s water dish or dropped a handful of hay pellets into the gerbils’ cage. This is not exactly the mothering I envisioned for my life, but you know what? I don’t mind it. I like taking care of little beings and if God hasn’t given us more human chilluns to love at the moment, then I can tend to these little beasts in my home.

Fair warning, Whiskers and Vice, you are collectively the low man on the totem pole in this house. If/when respite or foster or adoptive or bio kids show up, you’ll need to start speaking out loud to get any attention from me.