So I saved the butterflies bodies and their cocoons. Every time I washed the dishes I could see these deteriorating insect corpses in a little glass bowl at eye level. An antennae hung over the lip of the bowl along with a pair of yellow plastic bug tweezers.
I would look at them and think, if Jesus came back, I wonder if the antennae would start moving on their own..
Like zombie butterflies.
Anyways, I decided recently in one of my 3 am staring at walls in the dark with my eyes closed sessions (instigated by being awakened to nurse in the other room for the second time in one night because I wasn't protecting the nap...argh....)
That I should... Declutter.
Tonight I read this. http://www.ehow.com/how_5392804_preserve-butterfly-wings.html
Um no. I can't stick a needle through a butterfly. I can stick a knife in a snake and skin him but not a butterfly.
I was at the homeschool group last week and the lady asked how the butterflies did (she was the one who had lent me the butterfly net, the REAL butterfly net).
I told her they did okay, they final guy only died a couple of weeks ago.
Why didn't you release them?
I told her they came from New York across state lines and had this paperwork that said I couldn't release them so I had to watch them die, all of them.
Did they do a death move she asked?
Yes they did, they did a death dance near the end and would flap their wings real fast. And then I would try and nurse them back to health with some honey water. Sometimes it would give them a few more days... It was kinda sad.
I think I was more attached to them because I saw them being born and there was blood (meconium, actually, see previous posts).
But honestly people, you don't understand the joys of motherhood until you are in it. And then its like your radar goes on.
From then on, you are sensitive and you finally understand why in the 80's your mom cried at the Southern Bell commercials.
