Progress

As I tucked Alyssa into bed last night, I asked her to be patient with her dad. I told her that we have no idea what his childhood home was like and perhaps there were a lot of animals there and maybe he often felt like the animals were dirty. I told her we need to give him time to realize that one little kitten is going to be different from several cats or dogs or other bigger animals.

She snuggled beneath her covers and said, “I think Daddy is starting to like Orville better because he was outside petting him with me earlier.”

I told her I hope so. I really, really hope so.

Then I laid down and prayed again. I prayed that I figure out how to make this work in a way that still lets me be a good mother and a good wife. I want to make everyone happy. I realize that sometimes, that’s not possible. But I want to try.

This morning I got up around 3am to check on Orville. I was worried about him in the garage. I want to respect Tom’s wishes about the kitten not being inside but I also want to respect Orville’s rights as a living creature not to freeze to death. I want to be respectful and yet not cruel to that tiny kitten who didn’t do anything wrong except perhaps get adopted by an irresponsible woman.

Anyway, I went downstairs with the intention of peaking out at Orville, making sure he had his blankets on him in the carrier we’ve set up as his bed and I found Tom. He was as the garage door, checking on Orville himself. Orville had climbed up Tom’s leg and was snuggled in against T’s chest.

I do believe we’re making progress.

Tom gave me an almost embarrassed grin and said, “I was just checking on him.”

I nodded. “Me to,” I whispered back.

Now, I am not deluding myself into believing that Orville will be nestled all snug in Alyssa’s bed with her anytime soon, but I’m absolutely counting this morning’s observation as progress. Tom’s not an ogre. He wants cleanliness and order but he’s also loving and kind and this was absolutely progress.

And progress is very, very sweet.