As per a previous post, we all know I ran over my beloved Shelby last September. It was a horrific event. I'll never forget it. It sucked. I had to call in reinforcements at the emergency vet, a.k.a. my mom and sister. The trauma of that night still hurts. I loved Shelby. Always will.
But here's the thing with kids. Not only do they not forget, they mention it. A lot. Here are a few examples, most of which take place in the car.
"Mommy? Remember dat time you ran over Shelby?" "Yes, Juni. I remember." "I loved my Shelby, mommy." "I know, Juni. But she's in puppy heaven, with Maddie." "I know, Mommy. But Mommy? The next dog we get, after Duchess dies and goes to puppy heaven...I wanna name dat dog Shelby, too." "Umm...yeah...I don't think so, Juni." "But why? I just love my Shelby." "Juni...Juni, let's talk about something else."
"Mommy?" "Yes, Juni." "I can tell you something?" "Yes, Juni." "I never gonna not love my Shelby." "I know, Juni. Me neither." "You runned her over, you know." "Yes, Juni. I realize this."
"Mommy?" "Yes, Juni?" "I love our new puppy Sadie." "I know, Juni. She's cool, isn't she." "Yeah, she is. But you know what? She not catch the Frisbee in the air like our dog Shelby." "I know, Juni. But she's only 18 months old. She's a puppy still. We'll teach her when it's warmer outside." "Okay. But you know you runned Shelby over, right?" "Yes, Juni. I still realize this."
"Mommy?" "Yes, Juni?" "When Nanny and PaPa die, can we put black balloons on their rock (headstone)?" "Yeah, no, Juni. How about white, since they're going to Heaven?" "Yeah, dat's better. Mommy, will Shelby be in their Heaven?" "Yes, Juni. She will." "You runned her over, you know." "Yep. I absolutely realize this."
"Mommy...I found that stuffed animal you have that looks like Shelby that your Mommy gave you when you in college." "You did, huh." "Yep. It hidden." "Huh...I wonder why." "You know what Mommy? Now I can play with Shelby any time I want! It not the same, though, Mommy. I think I'll sleep with Shelby stuffed dog tonight." "That's nice, Juni. Let's go outside and play with Sadie, okay?" "Yeah, let's do that. But Mommy, you know what? You runned over Shelby." "Yep. got it. I killed the dog. I'm a certified dog-killer. You know what Juni? I'm not a fan of these conversations."
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Juni Turns 5
My little man is five. It's hard to believe it. The parties went great. Perfect. Good friends, good food, the most amazing cakes ever.
But that night, I crashed and burned. I took out his baby books. And watched video footage from when he was 2. I knew better. I knew what would come next.
Pure, pathetic, panic. The bad kind. The kind that makes my heart race. My body flush. My mind race. This was not just my run-of-the-mill anxiety. It was a full-fledged panic attack.
Fun times. So I took my meds, and poured a skinny girl margarita. And then the tears came. In the shower, at dinner, During tv time. Just asked what was wrong with my eyes, and I said it was allergies. That satisfied him. Jasen said I was insane. Not shit, Sherlock.
But I'm also a mom. A mom who is 33, and who has maybe 7 years of good eggs left. What an appropriate reason for a second child? Because Juni wants a "brober?" Because, in my anxiety-ridden mind, if anything happened to Juni I couldn't survive, but if I had a second child I would have to carry on for the younger sibling? Insanity. I know.
And what are the appropriate reasons to not have another child? I actually almost barely like my body the way it is? I don't want to go through the anxiety like before? I'd have to stop taking my new meds, and wing it with therapy alone, risking a complete breakdown?
The answer, of course, is that I don't know. And I don't want to think about it. Not yet, anyway.
So I let the emotions rush through me. I decided that for just that night, I would mourn the loss of my preschooler, and begin calling him a soon-to-be kindergartner the next day.
That night, I passed out in his bed. He slept with his arms around me all night. I woke up, sweating from the plastic mattress cover, barely able to move from the still mattress, and with a killer headache. And had to listen to Jasen bitch about me not coming to bed.
But it was worth it. It was worth it, because in what will seem like minutes; seconds even, Juni won't want me to read to him at night. He won't want to cuddle before bed. He won't need me to help him in the middle of the night. And he definitely won't want me crashing in his bed. Which makes me absolutely crushed, and absolutely excited for what his life holds.
Being a Mom is an absolute roller coaster of emotions. I don't want out of the Mom deal...that rocks. But I would like off of the roller coaster, please. I've never been a big fan to begin with.
But that night, I crashed and burned. I took out his baby books. And watched video footage from when he was 2. I knew better. I knew what would come next.
Pure, pathetic, panic. The bad kind. The kind that makes my heart race. My body flush. My mind race. This was not just my run-of-the-mill anxiety. It was a full-fledged panic attack.
Fun times. So I took my meds, and poured a skinny girl margarita. And then the tears came. In the shower, at dinner, During tv time. Just asked what was wrong with my eyes, and I said it was allergies. That satisfied him. Jasen said I was insane. Not shit, Sherlock.
But I'm also a mom. A mom who is 33, and who has maybe 7 years of good eggs left. What an appropriate reason for a second child? Because Juni wants a "brober?" Because, in my anxiety-ridden mind, if anything happened to Juni I couldn't survive, but if I had a second child I would have to carry on for the younger sibling? Insanity. I know.
And what are the appropriate reasons to not have another child? I actually almost barely like my body the way it is? I don't want to go through the anxiety like before? I'd have to stop taking my new meds, and wing it with therapy alone, risking a complete breakdown?
The answer, of course, is that I don't know. And I don't want to think about it. Not yet, anyway.
So I let the emotions rush through me. I decided that for just that night, I would mourn the loss of my preschooler, and begin calling him a soon-to-be kindergartner the next day.
That night, I passed out in his bed. He slept with his arms around me all night. I woke up, sweating from the plastic mattress cover, barely able to move from the still mattress, and with a killer headache. And had to listen to Jasen bitch about me not coming to bed.
But it was worth it. It was worth it, because in what will seem like minutes; seconds even, Juni won't want me to read to him at night. He won't want to cuddle before bed. He won't need me to help him in the middle of the night. And he definitely won't want me crashing in his bed. Which makes me absolutely crushed, and absolutely excited for what his life holds.
Being a Mom is an absolute roller coaster of emotions. I don't want out of the Mom deal...that rocks. But I would like off of the roller coaster, please. I've never been a big fan to begin with.
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