Show and Tell - "The I Love My Whole Family Song"

I haven't been in class for a while. Extracurriculars have been keeping me pretty busy! But, I'm back and so very glad to be.

Comedian has entered a contemplative phase with regards to Emma and her place in our family. I remember Bear doing it too, but being so concrete, it was a quick phase with brief questions and seemingly satisfactory answers.

Comedian is less inclined to move on. She talks about Emma alot, a-l.o.t! But instead of asking lots of clarifying questions (like Bear did) she seems to be sure of her facts and just likes saying them over and over.

For example: "Bear is my sister. I am Bear's sister too. We are a family. Emma is a sister too. We have three kids. But Bear is here and I am here and Emma is not. Mom, remember when Emma died in your belly? She almost came out but she died. Then Bear came in your belly and she didn't die. Then I came out of your belly and I didn't die either. So, Bear's here, and I'm here, and Emma is fake."

Hmmm. Ok. I was with her until the 'fake' part. But I get it. I can see why she would use that word. I mean, all she has to go on are a couple of pictures of a baby on the wall, a few toys we say were Emma's and a trillion stories told over and over by us, her mother and father. She has no memories of visiting her in the hosptial or watching my belly grow and feeling her sister kick. She inherited the loss, gained an invisible sister - if you will.

So, we keep talking. And will keep talking. And most of those conversations seem to happen in the car on the way to school. And, more often than not, she breaks into song. And, because I have a new camera I am now able to keep my old camera in the car. So, I was able to quick grab it and hit 'record' on the video feature and get one of those conversations / (prompted segways) into song, just for your benefit.

WARNING: Don't actually watch the video, unless looking at an over exposed, jostling tissue box is your idea of good media.

I suggest closing your eyes and just listening to my sweet girl work through it, yet again. It wasn't nearly the first time and won't be the last.

And that is how it ends, every time, a tender, contemplative moment let go with a, "Hey mommy, did you know?..."

Did you sigh? Admit it, her little voice touches, yes? Oh, and don't forget to see what everyone else is showing and telling!

Re-Entry

Wow - this blog has been neglected. My children, you will be glad to know, have not. I have updated the pictures on the sidebar to represent the season change, and will have to do so again soon when the (whisper it) white stuff arrives, and plan to post a comeback show and tell tomorrow that is sure to melt any heart!

Since I have last posted they have grown so much. Yes, in a month they have not only become taller, but also more grown up indicating that their birthdays are really just around the corner and I can't deny it one more minute.

Soon, very soon, I will have a five and seven year old. whew. That just doesn't seem possible.

And not just because time flies and we all can't seem to figure out where the years went. But, because I truly can't remember a great deal of their littleness. I know. It sounds odd. No, it sounds terrible, but it's true.

The long and short of it is this. I lost a baby. I broke. A few years later I had another one and she lived. I had proved to myself that I could make, grow, and deliver a healthy child - and then what? I did it again, just to be sure.

And during that time, the trying, then growing, then being amazed she was here, was chaos - both in my world and within my soul. I had no idea how to reconcile the emotion and grief that was still churning within me with the screaming, struggling to latch-on-baby, gifted to me.

I had only thought as far as that first cry, the measuring of the cord, the lightness of a baby holding some of her own weight in my arms. The rest was a mystery.

I think I'm finally getting it now, how to live with Emma's spirit and live moments with my walking, talking kids. The integration has happened and it is lovely, inspiring more than one contented, if not a little bitersweet smile from me daily. Yet with it has come a new grief. A wave of guilt that I did know how to 'just be' with my babies when they were little. That the 'they might still die any minute' fear led my life instead of allowing joy to overwhelm me.

I missed it. It didn't just go too fast, I truly missed parts of their infancy. I never stopped. It's true you can stay busy enough that you don't have time to fall apart. I wish I had. Our time together would have been better for it.

I know what I must do. I know I have to sit with these reality of memories, forgive myself, and let it go.

I know, but it's not easy.

The upside? They don't remember any of this. It is my internal dragon to slay.

Onguard dragon.

Well, till tomorrow then and be sure to come back -- for my show and tell is a perfect example of how the memory of my first and the realness of my others co-exist now.

Oh - and part of it is video...

A Bear's Revenge

She sat in the back seat, face contorted with a mixture of frustration and anger. Her hands were balled into fists and even through the angled, reflection of the kiddie-spy mirror mini-vans are readily equip with, I could see her muscles flexing.

She was mad because the bank teller forgot to give, and conversely, I forgot to ask for the super cheezy, but expected sticker typically doled out with a trip through the drive-through.

When she opened her mouth to speak I braced myself for a spluttered streak of inappropriatness. "She's so stupid. How could she forget. Next time I'm getting a million" perhaps.

Instead, her features still resembling someone who had been tricked into sucking a tart lemon she fumed, "That was NOT fair to fair. She should be ASHAMED of herself. NEXT time I'm getting two"

Physically, I tried not to burst out laughing. Mentally, I gave myself a 'job well done' parenting pat on the back.

I mean, for one so clearly 'wronged' she followed the well taught and preached format: (1)identify the issue, (2)say how you feel about it, and (3) think how you can solve the problem in the future.

Oh my Bear, may you never be crossed by the sticker gods again.

Show and Tell: Applesauce and Ambulances

BEAR

We picked two bushels of apples. I truly wish I had that picture to show you. The girls, high on the shoulders of a man that is not their father. This, in-and-of-itself, is a fact of significance.

But what strikes me as even more amazing is that Bear, a child infamous for liking the idea of something then realizing that the experience is far less entising than the picture she formed in her head, stuck with us, for the whole process of making applesauce.

It got hard, but she hung in, taking delight in the apron wrapped around her tiny waist and the pen she sported because, "it's what mom used to do for work and I like doing things just with you."

COMEDIAN

Preschools have a curriculum that includes educating our littles about Community Helpers. Usually this includes the firemen in full gear, demonstrating how they keep us safe even while they keep their own bodies protected from the fire. It is also meant to calm the kids who think they look 'a bit scary'.

Today, the firemen visited Comedian's school along with an ambulance squad.

Same concept. Different community helpers.

When I picked her up she presented me not with a representative coloring book, or a "I'm a friend of a firefighter" sticker, but an official looking paper.

"Ah, you need to sign this" her teacher said, a sheepish smile playing on her face. "Comedian fell when she was on the ambulance and got quite a scrape. She's fine. She was so brave, but we need you to sign that we recorded the incident."

The irony was not lost on me. Even so, my smirk became a full out laugh when I saw the line that asked, "Was an ambulance called for this injury?".

Ah - no, seeing as she was already on the ambulance when the 'injury occured'. Leave it to my little Comedian.

So, there you have it: Applesauce and Ambulances.

What are you showing and telling today?