Today, my Mother in law and I took the girls to the splash pad. The day was gorgeous, 90 degree weather, the sun was shining, there was a slight breeze blowing. It was the perfect type of day to take the girls to a wonderful wholesome fun family activity; the local parks department splash pad. My girls are water babies and in the heat, the splash pad is the safest way for preschoolers to beat the heat…or so I thought.
We arrive and the girls are overcome with excitement, dressed in the new bikinis that their Grandma ChaCha had gotten them for this visit. Bella was over the moon about the cheetah print bikini with the hot pink piping on the edges and Gabi was sporting a red, white and blue striped bikini as beautifully as only a 3 year old American girl next door could. They were absolutely adorable.
It was seriously about 100 degrees out, so the splash pad was packed with children running through the glistening cool water.At first the girls were filled with trepidation, it was a little overwhelming with all of the bigger kids running about but soon they became acclimated and were having the time of their life.
Grandma ChaCha and I sat on the bench ,looking on at the girls, mentally recording every grin and smile. Then I started snapping pictures because the girls were just too irresistible not to. It was another one of those days that you just knew memories were happening. Then it all changed.
The splash pad is in the middle of a public park. We had noticed early on that there was a man training a Border Collie. I am always uber aware of our surroundings. I am a people watcher by nature.We thought it was ridiculous but hey , it was his dog and whatever…. we had human babies to watch. Then the man walked his dog over to the splash pad. Not necessarily a great thing to do but whatever, as long as he kept the dog close to him and kept it away from the children. Of course, every single child ( with the exception of mine) ran over to pet the obviously dehydrated Border Collie. My children asked but, first I don’t let my kids pet strange dogs and second, quite frankly, something about this man gave me the heebie jeebies…before he even opened his mouth to talk. He kept skulking around, watching the kids run through the fountains as they sporadically came up to him and asked to pet the dog. It felt like he was one of those guys who uses their dogs to pick up girls but these “girls” were actually “girls” ages 2- 13. I kept my girls close without alarming them…or him. But for some reason, he kept gravitating toward where we were. He kept circling where we were sitting, and then he came in for conversation. The girls were oblivious but he kept smiling at them and trying to engage my Mother in law and myself. At first, I was pleasant. After all, I wasn’t raised in a cave but then things got weird. He smiled at my 3 year old, practically salivating and licking his lips ( like a man who is speaking to Pamela Anderson while she’s wearing her bikini) and says, “My , you sure are a cute little thing!” And then he proceeded to keep trying to chat up me and my Mother in law.Now, it wasn’t exactly what he said but how he said it and the way he was looking at my girls that sent off my Mommy intuition/alarm. I don’t leave anything to chance when it comes to my daughters , I’d much rather insult an adult with my over protectiveness than let my child get hurt because I was too trusting and I think most parents understand that view point. Our children are the priority,all else is less important…period! Then I noticed him sizing up my 5 year old, as he was talking.I felt my skin crawl. At this point, I was despondent towards him and pretty much ignoring his very existence.My main focus was trying to figure out how the hell to get out of this situation short of saying,”Can you please get your creepy mind the fuck off my children you sick bastard!!” So, I tell my girls…”5 minutes, we’ve got to go meet Grandpa!” My Mother in law, looked like she was on high alert as well, so something was definitely not right with this man. He continued trying to engage us, then it went completely creepy. He proceeds to talk at us and tell us that he was in the service but came out and immediately had himself fixed ( why would you tell a complete stranger this? I think what he meant to say was after he was caught for being a molester he was chemically castrated!) because he didn’t want children ( then why are you hanging around the splash pad full of children, Chester?) and he continues to say that it is so easy to have kids, “You blink and you have like four kids!” Something in his tone was as if he were implying that children were disposable. I know you may be thinking to yourself, this woman is completely overreacting. But if you were there, you know that feeling you get when something is most definitely not right with someone? That was the feeling that I had. My stomach was in knots; this man had me about to vomit he made me so nervous being around my children. I suddenly felt creeped out and insulted simultaneously ( it was a train wreck of creepy activity) It felt like that any minute he was capable of pulling out a knife and grabbing my girls and running off…in broad day light…he was that CREEPY!! I grabbed my girls with nothing more than a ,” Let’s go.” I covered them up and we left. Normally, I would have changed them in the car but this freak started following behind us. I was prepared for battle. I was pissed, freaked out, and scared all at the same time. Endorphins was oozing from my pours.My fight or flight response was in overdrive.I have never come in contact with someone whom, I felt, actually were a threat to my children. But this man made me feel afraid for them. It was reminiscent of that scene in the original Texas Chainsaw massacre when the creepy guy gets in the van and then cuts himself and they are stuck in the van with him. You know you don’t want him there, but you are afraid of what might happen if you spook him, Needless to say, we will NEVER go to that splash pad again..EVER.
The moral of the story; it is our moral obligation that if something feels wrong for our children,as their protectors, we must do whatever it takes to keep them safe, no matter how crazy it seems.My only regret is that I didn’t call the cops on this guy for lurking around the splash pad accosting mothers and leering at children and that I didn’t grab my girls and run the minute he looked in their general direction. By the time we left, only about 10 minutes had passed from start to finish but I felt dirty and violated.What do you think? Did I over react? Or does Mommy intuition trump all rhyme or reason?
Search results for: “bad parenting”
Mommy’s intuition; what would you do?
What is Commuter Marriage?
You’ve all seen me write about it but maybe you’re wondering what is Commuter Marriage? As I stand on the front stoop watching my husband pull away for the 17th Sunday, bound for his hole he calls an apartment in Iowa, my throat closes up and I feel like I will be swallowed completely by the huge lump in my esophagus and my eyes burn and sting as they get a little watery.
I watch my girls run down the sidewalk waving and screaming , “Bye Daddy, I love you!” and my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces inside. Every week it stings my very core; every single time. Sometimes worse than others, but always. I really loathe all this single mothering that I’ve been doing lately but more than that I hate that we are all getting used to it, comfortable even.
What is commuter marriage? It’s hard on the family.
The girls are getting used to not having Daddy around, and I am getting used to handling things on my own, and sometimes when he’s here, I think he feel’s like he is out of place in his own home. That is what really bothers me. Isn’t this how people drift apart? Isn’t this how families fall apart? I love my husband, and he loves me but if you get used to not having someone around, pretty soon won’t you stop missing one another?
When your husband travels for work, it’s not consistent and it’s random and you learn to deal with it by looking forward to the next time he returns. But when your husband has a residence in a whole other state for a job because his office is there and you KNOW he will be gone for at least 4 of the days of the week, it’s a little harder to swallow.
There is no room for superfluous personal days or no chance of no travel because every week you know, come Sunday afternoon..he’s pulling away and you are left behind on that damn stoop and he’s left watching you grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
I thought being married meant someone to share my life with. Recently, I feel more like I am a kept woman; a lonely one at that. I have someone to pay the bills. We’re getting to the point where we are forgetting to tell each other the little things that happen in our day to day and that scares me. Pretty soon we won’t know each other. I can deal with geographic distance but not emotional distance. I mean, I never thought I’d be married and alone.
What is Commuter Marriage? It’s being married but alone.
What do I do? Do I tell him to quit and come home because I need my friend, my partner, my husband? Or do I just keep going on ignoring the fact that this is really hard and slowly becoming impossible? Some days, I am okay with it. Other days, I can hardly bear it.I am lonely and I miss our relationship. The day to day, seeing each other, talking about nothing, sharing laughs and feelings, stolen glances and touches. Now, everything is forced into a weekends time and it’s not enough.
I feel like such an ungrateful asshole. I know I should be filled with gratitude that he has a job at all in this economy but it’s extremely hard when you’ve spent every day of the past 13 years with this man and suddenly you are living separate lives. I know he is just as lonely there but some days I feel overwhelmed with all the responsibility of holding it all together. Some days, it is just too much.But what do you do when you have bills to pay and kids to feed, mortgages, groceries, and school loans? You suck it up, you be a grown-up, you get out of the fetal position, stop crying and stand on that damn stoop and wave goodbye and hope its not for the last time. Commuter marriage is not for the weak.
What is commuter marriage?
It’s survival and groceries and mortgages. It’s not being homeless. It’s saying goodbye more often than you ever dreamed. Have you or would you ever be in a commuter marriage and make it work?
A bubonically bitching week
It’s been one of those weeks. The girls have both been sick for a week, I am sick, my husband comes home this weekend and he is getting sick. Everybody feels like crap, we stay in our jams, there’s barfing, coughing up lungs, spitting ( oh yeah..so ladylike), fevers galore, me putting the girls in luke warm baths to bring down fevers ( any idea what that’s like? Its like bathing a cat!) and thermometers sticking out of every orifice in the house. It’s basically been a three ring sick circus and I’ve been designated the damn ring master of Germapalooza. Just for the record, its no fun being the ring master when you feel like shit. Summer sickness? What is that? At least when I am sick in the winter, I feel like the malaise is confined to my body; my person. In the summertime, with the heat, I feel like the entire universe is conspiring to kill me. It is horrendous.Couple that with having to watch more poor babies be sick, the helplessness that comes with that in itself; I feel absolutely miserable! You all know how badly I felt this week, I mean Monday I called my own Mommy for help. (She didn’t come but that’s another story altogether).Here, I am walking around in a fever induced delirium trying to force fluids and keep track of meds for my girls, charting temps, rationing toast,and wiping noses and asses…all week long…all while trying not to pass out myself. Is that even safe? Fortunately for me, a family who is sick and ailing together..naps together. Ahh, naps, you sweet , sweet bastards you helped me survive this week.
Amidst all of this bubonic bliss, I couldn’t help but take a little inventory of my house and myself. Brilliant , right? I look in the mirror and see the crypt keeper with bed head, eye boogers and fever blisters. Pretty , right? What’s more pathetic is I look at my usually adorable kids and the poor babies, they look like..well, the crypt keepers children. Worse than that, I do care but I am too sick and tired to do anything about it. So, I put the kids on the sofas and we lie there in our ugly silence , sipping tepid water, wiping our noses and watching Netflix! Then , my crazy little over active brain takes over. It’s been known to do that. I’m a thinker, sometimes I wish I could just be vacuous…blissfully vacuous!
In true Mommy fashion, I decided that every morning before I started feeling my worst, I would make an attempt to clean my house. As a general rule, I have been working until I feel faint from the cold meds. (I learned that lesson the hard way while trying to place some decor above the kitchen cabinets. I turned around so quickly on the chair that I got dizzy and lost footing. Thank God I caught myself, the hospital would have locked my girls and I away for good if we came into the emergency room looking the way we did.) After almost falling and or collapsing for the third time, I decided to give myself over to the disease and accept that sometimes we just need to take off our Mommy Super woman cape and say,” To hell with it, I need a nap!” Because in the end, who cares what we look like or the house looks like when we are sick..we’re sick. What is important is that we take care of ourselves so that we can get well…and take care of our sick husbands! At least that’s what I’ve been told!Happy and Healthy Mothering!Book Club anyone?
So, summer reading programs are in full swing. I sign my girls up every year, since Bella’s first summer when she was 3 months old. I am sure that the librarian though I was a completely overkill new Mommy. That was OK, I didn’t mind. I’d walk into the library dressed all cute, with my super cute little baby dressed in some incredibly adorable outfit with her hair pulled up in the most incredible little bows ( yes, even if I had to use toothpaste to keep those bitches in..they were in)I pranced my blissfully happy ass across the library like I was hot stuff as people oohed and ahhed over my baby. Then I’d pick out about 20 of the cutest little books I could find, trip over my platform sandals and maneuver my way back to the front to check out. Where the librarians would tell me just how awesome a Mommy I was to be reading to my baby and instilling such great literary practices in her little baby brain. I got a little bibliophile gold star. And every time I’d walk in, the same thing would happen. Now, I am sure behind my back they were giggling thinking poor, stupid girl. None the less, I would log the books I read to her and she would pick out some trinket..sticker, board book, pencil ( yes, a pencil for a 3month old..that should have been my first hint…duh) Of course, I too would take part. I had to be a good example for my 3 MONTH OLD!( like she was keeping track..shit,I’m not even sure she could completely see me at that point).
The following summer, pretty much like the first , just as adorable as ever. By this point the librarians know me by name. They smile and coo and know all my general business. Again, Mommy and daughter..prancing our sweet asses in their doing our thing, Me being the best Mommy ever! I was a model library connoisseur. Hell, my favorite librarian even used to set aside new release movies on Tuesday and hold them for me and Bella.What a rocking Librarian.
Fast forward, the next year I have a newborn. More OOhs and AWWWS, because now there is two of them. Dressed just alike with rhyming names, those big blue eyes, and crazy smiles.Of course, Mommy wasn’t sporting platform sandals or kitten heels anymore. No, Mommy was wearing flip flops and a pony tail, looking ever so slightly rough around the edges, That’s what a toddler and a newborn do to a Mommy. That summer,when they asked if I ‘d be participating in the summer reading program I gave a little grumble..put forth an effort and squeezed out 2 books that I may or may not have actually finished reading. I’m leaning towards probably not, but when they know you on a first name basis…you gotta at least make the effort to pretend. But I still read to the girls. Bedtime can really rack up those books when you have a toddler who fights sleep!
Fast forward to this year, I have a 3 and 5 year old who run into the library like they own the place. I guess they kinda feel like they do. They walk in and all the librarians flock to them like they are their long last Grammys. Hell, we moved away for 7 months, moved back and all the librarians were celebrating that we were back.It’s really sweet, I think they missed their entertainment. But these days, the girls run in..make a mad dash for the children’s DVD rack, then head for the Macs, and then the music. I’m too tired to even argue. It never fails, even at the self check out counters, one ( or more) of the librarians make their way over to say hi to the girls. I always feel a little guilty when they eyeball my 10 dvds, 10 cds, and my The tired Mommy’s guide to passionate sex book that I have checked out 7 times and never get around to reading because I am so DAMN TIRED! But there are seldom any kids books this summer. So, I reassure them that we do, in fact, have a library in our home..chalked full of kids books ( Which we do) but of course most of the time the kids are running past it to get to the media room…. to watch the aforementioned DVDs ……from the library.
This year when they ambushed me to sign up for the kids reading program, I readily did, as I always do. I even signed up to get their Library email newsletters so they can update me when there’s new books. I also told the girls that we were going to start reading chapter books and once we finished the entire book…I’d rent the movie. It’s been a week, and we are almost through with Charlotte’s Web. Brilliant, why didn’t I think of this sooner? Of course there is another problem, with all those DVDs, somehow…the Wiggles have gone missing. You know the Wiggles DVD that we already owned but my 3 year old had to check out. The Wiggles DVD that will probably cost me $100 to replace. Yeah, that Wiggles DVD ( apparently the one dipped in gold).Then it dawned on me why the librarians really love me and my children so much, all the money I have paid them for lost and misplaced DVD’s and CD’s ( never books). I’m probably part owner of that place as much money as I have put into it. The moral of the story….Read a book. Skip the DVD. A book cost $15 to replace, a DVD dipped in gold quite a bit more. Having the librarians still ooh and awww, even when you come in wearing tennis shoes, a crooked ponytail, a spit up t-shirt and yoga pants ( though the kids are still dressed cute) PRICELESS!Things heard around my house today
After my Throat Punch Thursday; Taking it up the rear edition, I needed a little something to smile about. So, I am sharing with you some random things that can be heard around my house on a daily basis between my 3 and 5 year old. For instance, today I heard:
Gabs (3 year old) “Where’s my PIL- OH- PET!!!” RAWR ( maybe you had to be there, but I swear it was funny and I am 99% certain that she did in fact rawr.)
Bella: “No Shoes on the Bed!” (Yelled, and sounding just like Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest..NO WIRE HANGERS! I was seriously a little bit creeped out. Now, if she would have been sporting that crazy baby Jane smudged red lip stick look she perfected after a round with Mommy’s lip stick.I would have really been scared)
Bella (5 year old) to Gabs “What’s that? Your NEW Nick Name???? You are NOT BATMAN!!!!” Seriously, what the hell did I miss in that conversation?
Bella to Gabs : “Oh yeah? It’ go time PUNK!” I really am going to have to limit the amount of Clint Eastwood I let this kid watch:)
Bella to me (while getting dressed): “Mommy, you guys are BUTT outta luck!”
Me: “What?”( More like WTF did she just say?)
Bella:”Wash my laundry, I am down to like NO MORE panties that I like!”
Is it wrong that I am missing diapers right now! After Gabs panties issues last month and Bella the diva demanding I do her laundry. I am actaully sitting here missing diapers.Then there was this;
Gabs : “Hey Bella! Bella Baloney!”
Bella: “Stop it! Mommy, tell her to stop!”
Me: “Gabs, leave your sister alone. That’s not nice!” ( but it was pretty funny)
Gabs: “OK, me sorry Bella……..(wait for it) ………………Bella Baloney!”(giggling all the way as her sister’s tiny little head explodes with anger).And it was all better!Happy Mothering!
Don’t get your panties in a bunch
So, Gabs has decided that she is going to take me on a fast train ride to Crazy town! You heard me right folks. My 3 year old is behind the wheel and has the gas pedal pressed through the floorboard.
Lately, every single time I …wait a freaking minute, every single time I try to put a stitch of clothing on my child she goes completely berserk on me ( sorry, temporary relapse of Mommy brain). Son of a bitch, I have a little nudist on my hands. Shit, I was really getting worried. I thought maybe we were having some sensitivity issues. But I digress, every single time I put socks , shoes, jeans or undies on my 3 year old, sheadamantly vehementlyviolently refuses. Today ,for instance, Gabs decides she wanted to put on new panties ( for absolutely no reason at all. I normally argue but it wasn’t worth the battle today). Ok, I’m game. Let’s do it. After sifting through a menagerie of panties, she settled upon a pair of Fancy Nancy panties. Promptly upon putting them on her person, she began to SCREAM, cry, and stomp her foot. I was a little annoyed and asked her what was wrong. Annoyed because we had already wasted 20 minutes ( at dinner time) sifting through unnecessary panties. Me: ” Gabs, what’s wrong?” Gabs:” Me NO Like these panties!!!!!” ( as she stomps her foot and subsequently resumes her screaming, unintelligible tirade on the awfulness of said panties). Me: (trying to remain calm..wanting to shoot myself) ” Why? What’s wrong with those panties?” You love Fancy Nancy!” Gabs: ” Well….me NO LIKE! Them keep moving from side to side.” Me: “O……..K…… ( I am speechless), let’s just take them off and find some other ones.” Gabs:( in absolute complete hysterics) ” NO!!! You NOT MY MOMMY!” ( and she puts her head down and looks up at me like she literally wanted to stomp me..opposed to the floor who is my poor substitute.) I remove the panties out of the equation. She runs off to her bedroom, bare assed, and repeats for about 15 minutes straight ( at the top of her lungs) “YOU not my Mommy! Me no Like YOU!” ( Oh yeah? Well, you’re not winning any prizes over here either) and that is where she stayed, until she realized I wasn’t following her and begging for forgiveness. Then you hear a very sweet and quiet, “Mommy…me Love you!” Choo, CHoo, All Aboard!!! You hear that train bound for Crazy town? It’s building steam. Did I mention, we had the exact same episode earlier today..just swap out panties for socks.Hey, I think this kids been to Crazy town before. In fact, I think she may be the president of Crazy town!
Apparently, socks, too, can be a life threatening affliction if not worn in just the right manner. What a terrible Mom I am. And don’t get me started on tags! Holy shit Batman, if I have to cut the tag out of one more piece of clothing for this kid. Yes, I am convinced seeing it in writing…she is a nudist!Where’s that damn forest?
I’m looking over some recent pictures of my girls today and I notice something that stuns and really bothers me.Gabi looks like she is in a constant state of dishevelment ( this kid will not keep her hair pulled back. I can fix it 30 times a day and she still ends up looking like cousin Oscar
from the Brady bunch, or Joey Ramone, or any other long haired Joey you can imagine). This is not acceptable. Bella never went in public with her hair looking in such a state.Speaking of Bella, my beautiful free-spirited, always giggling Bella, now in her pictures she looks like she is unhappy. She is smiling but the gleam that used to be there is not there anymore and it breaks my heart. She is a tough bird. She is definitely the suck it up and chin up kinda girl. You never see her down, she won’t let you. She makes the most of all situations even if they are less than desirable. She is her Mommy’s daughter in that way.But pictures don’t lie, she looks sad in the way only a Mama would know. She’s missing her friends, her school, her play dates, her life. But she won’t complain because she is so smart and she knows this is the situation. This should not be the concern of a 5 year old.I also notice that I am suspiciously absent from most pictures these days because, to be honest, I feel as if through this last move..I’ve lost control. I’ve reverted back to my workout clothes as acceptable public clothing ( which they are not unless you are actually in the middle of working out) , I never have time to workout ( adding more guilt because I feel like the worst role model on the face of the earth), my straightener who I was using religiously has given way to the ‘ponytail’. There never seems to be enough hours in the day to accomplish all the things that I want or need to do.It’s not Gabi’s hair, my absence of interest in how I look, that’s bothering me, its the fact that the hair is a reflection of what has been going on in our lives over the past few months.It’s the light gone out of Bella’s eyes, the genuine happiness she used to radiate. Here’s how it went down; Daddy has job, Daddy loses job, Daddy gets new job, we move across the country,job down sizes Daddy after 8 months, we move back to original home ( since it never sold) , Daddy gets new job, Daddy moves to Iowa, we stay behind because job is contract. It has been madness all the way round…crippling madness.The girls cry every other night for their Daddy to tuck them in, to play with them outside, to do all the Daddy stuff that he’s always done. I think I am doing an OK job of functioning normally when Daddy is gone but obviously not. I know it, the girls have caught on and I have to change it. But how do I force myself to pull it all together when I am seriously doing the best that I can with the cards I was dealt? To make matters worse, I can’t even talk about it to anyone because…my friends here probably think “Jesus, get over it. You are home.You should be happy”. My friends still living where we most recently left, well, I am bitter because I miss them so damn much and I am here and they are there and I feel displaced. Nothing worse than feeling like life is moving on even though you are not there:)Yes, the world does not revolve around me..once again I am painfully reminded. I can’t talk to my husband because I don’t want to lay that kind of guilt on him. I know him, he’d quit and come home but then where would we be? I just keep telling myself, the best thing for us is right around the corner. I know it.There is no way we’ve gone through all this over the past 2 years for nothing ( God, I hope not).I can’t talk to my family because quite frankly, if you’ve not been in the situation you can not imagine how hard it is. It’s like childbirth, even if I told you ,you wouldn’t believe it and even if you did..you could never fathom the gaping void it leaves in your world. Here I sit, writing it all out hoping to find some catharsis. I may not be able to fix this ‘situation’ but I can fix my reaction to it. So, tomorrow, whether I feel like it or not, I will be getting “ready” before going into public. I will make myself ,once again, a priority. Because, baby, you are what you think you are and if I don’t think I am worth it, neither will anyone else. But most importantly, I am making tomorrow Bella and Gabi Day, as will be every day from now on ( well, at least most days..once in a blue moon Mama may need to keep herself sane:). For now, I have to chin up and chest out. I’m bringing back that gleam in my baby’s eyes, no matter what it takes.I just wish it didn’t take me having to look at pictures to realize what was going on right in front of me. I guess its true, sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees.
Happy! Last year before “the move” and all the chaos!
Messy hair, disingenuous happiness!
There is no beauty without pain
There is no beauty with out pain. Here are some pictures from my Mother’s Day garden..progressing beautifully. Unfortunately for my girls , with all the beautiful flowers and butterflies comes loads of bees.
with all this beauty came some pain….
Bella’s first ever bee sting:( May 27, 2010) She was a trooper, she barely even cried.Perhaps they are not stars
We have this dog, Saffaron ( Saffy as we affectionately refer to her as) and she is almost 11. Now, she is not a tiny thing a ma bob or a golden noodle hybrid, she is an adorable boxer. We love her like crazy and we have for the past 11 years but old girl is getting, well…old! This poor dog went from being the big guy and my first “baby” to being basically another play set for our girls. Our girls mean well, and they think they are “loving on her” but Lord, if that is love..it really does hurt. But Saffy, old girl, she doesn’t miss a beat. She stands there, never growls or shows her teeth, and rolls with the punches. We protect her and intervene on her behalf..regularly but I know if it was happening to me and I was 77 , I’d be biting someone.
That being said, I am getting worried about the fact that sooner than later, Ms. Saffy will be leaving us for greener pastures. My girls really do adore this dog, she is their big sister. If I am telling them how much I love them..they always remind me..”Don’t forget about Saffy, Mommy!” I know when the time comes, little hearts will be severely broken. I am just trying to avoid broken psyches. I’ve been trying to , in the most simplistic way possible, explain to my daughters about death. Basically, I have explained that when a person or animal dies, they go to sleep and leave this earth. We won’t see them again on earth.They know about heaven and they are stoked that people who die get to go there and be well and happy. But sad that said person will no longer be with us. I am always careful to not say when people get old they die because I know Bella, she’d be watching the grandparents like a hawk.
I think I am over sensitive about the issue because growing up, we never really had to deal with death so I am not so good at it myself ( Hell, I’m afraid of how I will act when the dog dies. Shit, Saf better wait until the big guy is home to pick up all the pieces). Growing up, I seldom remember people or pets dying and I think it had something to do with the way my parentsdealtdidn’t deal with the topic. For example, growing up we had a dog named “Pancho” ( yes, yes, I know..odd choice for a dog’s name:) for my entire childhood. Now, you say, “Wow! That was one hell of a long life lived by this dog” That would be a pretty fair assumption, but it would be wrong. Did I mention Pancho was a Shepard, a beagle, a spaniel,a terrier, a Rottweiler, and a couple different really cute mutts. Yeah, apparently if Pancho died or “ran away” my dad would just replace it…with whatever dog struck his fancy. We’d ask “What happened to Pancho?” And he would put the dog in front of us and say, “What are you talking about? This IS Pancho!” So let it be written, so let it be done. He was Papi so we just took his word for it.
Then there was my freshman year of college when my Grandma was dying of lung cancer. I’d speak to my Mom pretty regularly who was taking care of her, and Mom kept telling me that every time the phone rang, my Grandma would ask, “Is that Debi? Is that my Sug ( as in sugar..which is what my Grandma always called me..she’s from Tennessee that’s how they roll down there)” Anyways, I knew my Gran was sick but apparently not how sick. I went about my semester and right after midterms I came home for October break. The house is empty..weird, right? Finally, my Dad appeared. He made some chit chat with my friend who drove me home for break, even offered him some food. Once I could get a word in edgewise, I inquired, “Where’s Mommy? ( and the rest of my brothers and sisters for that matter and yes,I realize I was 18 calling my Mother “Mommy”.I still do..so what!)” My Dad:” Oh, They are in Tennessee at your Grandma’s funeral ( all very matter of factly)” WTF??? Me: “Why didn’t somebody tell me?(sobbing)” Dad: ” Your Mom didn’t want to bother you during midterms. Your Grandma didn’t want her to.” See what I mean? Totally not making me face death. I missed the funeral, the wake and never really got to say goodbye.
That’s how its been my whole life. I’ve been to a couple wakes but when it comes down to it, the finality of it all, I can’t do it ( “It” meaning the whole putting someone in the ground and actually saying goodbye). In fact, no one’s even insisted that I had to. At this point in my life,the emotional collateral damage may completely destroy me. I know there will come a time(very soon) that I will have to face my fears, we have a couple Greats that are in their 80’s and I have to get a grip.These are women who are big parts of my girls lives so my girls will have to be given the opportunity to say goodbye. I can not deprive them of that because of my own phobias. I’ve found that once a family member dies, I just don’t go back to that city again. Crazy, I KNOW! It’s just that ,subconsciously, I know that once I go there and they are no longer there, I have to face the reality..the pain of loss. This is how it has always been for me. So, I am trying with my own handicapped sense of loss to explain this to my daughters because I don’t want them to be crippled by the fear of losing their loved ones but to know it is just a small part of living and that dying is not the end but the beginning of another chapter. After all, isn’t it my duty as their Mother to prepare them for life? Part of life is dealing with loss and as painful and unversed as I am in dealing with it myself, I must find a way to navigate the situation so that I can make it easier on them,when the time comes that they have to deal with a loss.
This is an Eskimo Proveb quote that I find beautiful and reassuring. I hope to share it with my girls as a source of comfort as they grow into women and are forced to embrace the reality that no one lives forever.“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
And AWAY we go!
Seems like just yesterday, in fact I think it was, Gabs was saying “Me this and Me that” and now I hear the “I”s creeping in. Of course, I am proud because she is learning to talk like a big girl and use her correct pronouns. But there is something saddening about my baby turning into a little girl. It’s letting go of one phase and starting another one. Much the same as I had to do a few weeks ago when Bella decided that her lovey “Fi Fi LaRUe” (the most adorable pink poodle ever) that up until then she could not sleep without..ever ( this little guy has been same day shipped when forgotten @ Grandma’s. It was THAT serious!) is not so necessary anymore. Normally, at bed time, there is a mad scramble to find FiFi. It is a major event and Daddy and I know there will be hell to pay if that little poodle ever goes missing. But a few days ago, FiFi was missing at nap time and Bella was all like,”It’s OK Mommy. I can live with out her for one nap.” OMG! And just like that..a dagger in my heart. I could care less about what happens to FiFi. It’s not about losing FiFi, its about this being a representation of losing yet another piece of Bella’s childhood. On to the next phase we go.
Parenthood is a lot like a roller coaster. You know what’s coming…you are excited for the thrill of a lifetime. You get on and as it climbs to the top, it feels like it is dragging on forever and the trepidation is building to almost combustible levels. Then you hit the top and away you go. You are on the ride of your life and it is over in a flash. That first year of my girls’ lives, everything seemed like it was in slow motion. We were wading through blindly waiting for life to happen..first teeth, first step, first word….all kinds of firsts. Then you hit that 1 year mark,the baby’s mobile and away you go. Suddenly, your whole life is on fast forward. All you want to do is hit the brakes but there’s no stopping this coaster once it gains momentum. Here I am, right smack dab in the middle of the ride..holding on for dear life, having the thrill of my life. I just wish I could slow it down a bit and enjoy the scenery a little more. It’s going so fast, I feel like I am missing parts of the ride and afraid its going to be over way too soon.
Quick , someone tap the brakes, Mama wants to take acouplefew49,000 or so snapshots to remember the ride!
