A thought about Motherhood

As I contemplate the complexities of Motherhood, I think, “Well, at least I’m not a Squirrel”.

Let me back up and tell you the whole story. When it rains either a) the raindrops hit our air conditioner, in the most irritating fashion to keep us from sleeping or b) the rain drips off the air conditioner in the window above ours Tell-Tale Heart style and rattles our sleep. So, to remedy this, we put an old pillow on top of our window unit. A simple fix, to be sure, but it works.

Well, until the Squirrel decided to live in it while we were on vacation. And who can blame it? If one digs through the outer material, there’s a wealth of warm and fuzzy stuffing to nestle into. I would say this Squirrel is not only industrious, but smart, making the universe work for her that way and all.

I say her because Wednesday morning, we noticed that she had birthed three tiny pink squirrels (see pics). Originally, they were nursing happily (when we saw them). I counted the three when she left to forage, anyway. Two weren’t looking so good by the afternoon. The third was pink and twitching, dreaming baby squirrel dreams. Later, I noticed only one baby and that Mama Squirrel was cleaning another (I saw her holding one up by the legs and cleaning it). Ooops, then I realized she was EATING it. I was horrified. I rationalized immediately...maybe it was dead anyway, and maybe she was hungry, so there was dinner, conveniently located in the nest. Obviously, she had already “taken care of” the third baby, which was nowhere to be seen. Later that afternoon I was a little concerned about her leaving the remaining healthy baby to go find food, until I realized she had eaten it too.





This was very disturbing, as you might imagine. I wracked my brain wondering why the two, happily nursing in the morning, were blue by the afternoon. Why did she eat the healthy one? Was it because she wondered what the point was of raising one measly baby if the others had died? A web search tells me that she might have eaten the babies for a few reasons, the first of which instills some serious guilt: she was afraid. My cats have found endless entertainment swatting at the squirrel through the window, and God knows I would have tried controlling that if I thought it would lead to a triple homicide. The others are a little more intuitive- not enough food around to feed everyone, too young of a mother, or maybe she knew she would have to move soon, and didn’t want to deal with a bunch of squalling pups (can you imagine-eating your baby if you didn’t want to hear it? Jesus, the animal world is HARSH). I looked for signs of remorse on her small, furry face. None. Not a tear shed, no moment of self reflection, nada. I think I saw her chatting it up with another squirrel, flirting in the tree across the sidewalk later that evening. Heartless. Seriously.

Anyhow, this was sobering, and surreal. Particularly as we are considering the idea of trying to have another baby. What an ingrate that Squirrel was to thumb her long, twitching nose at God who blessed her with THREE babies, all at the same time (of course, she might have thought the real blessing was to have the best meal she’ll eat all year). Doesn’t she know that some squirrels struggle to have even one?