The Trouble with Thinkers

Full disclosure: I am a thinker. Apparently I also passed that trait along to our daughter. Don’t get me wrong, being a thinker is, all in all, a good thing. The trouble with it, though, is that we thinkers often dwell on things long beyond the time we should. We make connections, we ride the train of thought, we float on the stream of consciousness and, before you know it, Shrek 3 is causing a breakdown.

We were getting ready to brush teeth, one of the last steps in the bedtime routine. As I was putting toothpaste on her brush, Hadley said, “Shrek 3 is sad. His dad died. And the other frogs were singing…” and then she started to cry. I think I’ve seen 3, but I didn’t pay much attention and so I have no idea what the frogs are. It only took a split second, though, for me to realize that she’d drawn a parallel between herself and Shrek and that she was remembering, all over again, that her dad had died, too.

I brought out all the reassurances I could come up with, sitting in our little bathroom with tears running down her tired face. She asked me why he had to die; why did he have to light the stick on fire (aka smoking); why didn’t he tell them no and run away when they told him to try it? She said she wished she could help him remember to say no and run away, because then he would have never put that stick in his mouth. I told her if she ever wanted to talk about him, I had all of the memories in my head and could tell her any stories she wanted to hear. I reminded her that we have lots of pictures and that’s why they’re all over the house, so we can always see him. And then I got her to bed by finding one of our engagement pictures and telling her she could keep it with her while she was sleeping.

So she fell asleep holding our picture tightly to her chest. I watched her for awhile and smiled when she moved our picture under the blanket, like she does with her other companions so they don’t get cold. My little thinker has been reassured for now.

Have I mentioned that this is hard?

A Gift for Dad

It was months ago that I consoled Hadley after she lost her balloon to the wind with the explanation that it wasn’t lost but that it was going up to Dad.  Every once in awhile, when she sees that someone has lost one, she’ll comment on him catching it when it gets to him.  So it made sense, in a 3 year old kind of way, when she said a few weeks ago that she wanted to get Jim a balloon for Christmas.  We bought it on Friday and I think we threw the store person for a loop when we said we were going to let it go.  I felt the need to explain what we were doing; who knows what effect that had on the dear lady at the store.  I doubt it’s something she hears very often.

Hadley knew what she was looking for.  I don’t know if she’d seen it there before, or if she just wanted one with Santa and his reindeer that she could admire for a day before we sent it on its way.  She went straight for it and thought it was just wonderful when the florist wanted to put more air in it.  She decided that would really help it get up where it needed to go.

I had decided that if she forgot, I would not mention it and she could just enjoy the balloon for as long as she wanted to.  I should have known better.  She didn’t forget.  In the middle of the afternoon, after she’d opened all her presents and was playing, she suddenly decided it was time.  She came to find me so she could ask if it was okay.  We bundled up, enlisted my parents to man the camera and offer support, and out we went.

Ready to launch the Christmas present

I had a moment of panic when it got stuck in the trees.  I really thought we were far enough away but the wind was pretty strong.  Fortunately, it was strong enough that after whipping around in the tree branch for a couple of seconds, on it went.  This is us as we let it go.  Yes, the balloon went so fast there was no way it was showing up in this picture.

Really, there was a balloon...

We watched it until it was out of sight. Hadley was thrilled that it had made it. We had each kissed it and then said Merry Christmas as we let go of the string. She said she knew that he was going to love it. I’m sure he did.

Goodbye, balloon. Travel safely.

Practicing

Hadley’s school has their Christmas program on Friday. They have been practicing for quite some time. Fortunately, they decided against doing “All I Want for Christmas” by Mariah Carey. I think that was a little ambitious for 3 year olds, anyway. She’s done much better at getting the three down that they’re planning to sing. She thought it was a great idea to practice tonight and have me get it on video.
 

I can really see how she’s grown when I compare that to this one.

Holidays

We visited Santa on Friday. Hadley told him she wants a swingset. Um, yeah…

Take the picture, take the picture, take the picture...

Singing and Halloween

Hadley was a pumpkin for Halloween.  We went out with a friend…her daughter and Hadley had the same costume.  Hadley said they were pumpkin sisters.

Hadley and Margaret: Pumpkin Sisters!

Hadley hasn’t realized that kids usually eat most of their candy in the first two days.  She has had one piece each night so far.  And she doesn’t like a number of different kinds, so Mom is going to be batting clean up.  It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.

She has also taken to singing everything.  She seems to make up stories and recite them along to some kind of a tune, although it’s never recognizable.  The songs are typically QUITE long in length and are sung with serious gusto.  It makes me smile every time I hear her.  One of the real songs she has picked up recently is “Tomorrow” from Annie.  They watched the movie on movie day a few weeks ago.  Her version of it goes something like this.

The sun’ll come up, tomorrow/put your bottom down low, tomorrow, there’ll be sun.

Just thinkin’ about, tomorrow/makes lots of cobwebs, full sorrow, and there’s sun.

When I’m stuck with a day, that’s gray and (mumble, mumble…) I just stick out my chin and grin and saaaaayyyyyyy….

Sun’ll come out, tomorrow/put your bottom down low, tomorrow.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow. You’re only a day away.

And yes, she sings that at the top of her lungs as well.  How could anyone feel down when Little Orphan Annie is belting that from the back seat?  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, she’s just a gem.

Happy Halloween!

Chopsticks and Lion Hats

We were out and about today and happened to go by a hat and mitten display in one of the stores.  Hadley tried on the dog, the kitten, and the lion before deciding that she needed to have the lion because her snowman hat and mittens from last year don’t fit anymore.  I actually think they probably do fit, but the lion was too cute to pass up.

We stopped at one of our favorite places for dinner.  She always says she wants the spaghetti.  Usually after a few bites, she decides that she actually wants what I get, penne pasta in garlic/olive oil with feta cheese.  Which is actually quite funny, considering that she doesn’t really like cheese.  Feta isn’t exactly a kid friendly cheese.  Then again, neither are avacadoes or sweet potatoes.  She does like making her own rules, that one.  She wore her lion hat and mittens into the restaurant.  We sat down and she asked me to get her “the sticks with the plastic thing” because she wanted to use them.  The sticks are chopsticks and the plastic thing is the chopstick buddy thing that helps you learn to use chopsticks correctly.  I’ve tried the buddy…it didn’t help me.  But I got her the sticks and set them up for her.  She tried it with spaghetti with limited success.  Then she decided to try them on my food.  She ate all of it.

So there we were.  My little girl in her lion hat, using chopsticks and eating penne with feta.  All I could do was smile and wish I had a picture.  I am going to have to learn to use chopsticks now, though. 

 

Pumpkin Patch

Today we met some friends and went to a pumpkin patch.  The only other time we’ve been to a pumpkin patch, it was about 2 days before Halloween and there were very few pumpkins left, none of which were actually in the patch anymore.  We have two pumpkin kits and Hadley has been very interested in getting them into the pumpkins, so we’ve been waiting for the pumpkins to show up.

After lunch, we got to the farm and got on the horse trolley to take us out to pick our pumpkins.  Sure, we could have picked one from the mass that was already there, but what’s the fun in that?  Besides, Hadley has never ridden a horse drawn trolley before.  When we stopped, she immediately found the one she wanted.

This is It!

 

Then we had to find a second one, the one that will be Mrs. Potato Head.  After tripping over a few vines, we found it.

Number 2, Located

When we got back, Hadley got her first pony ride.  She had a pretty tight grip on the saddle.  I walked beside her so she’d feel a bit more comfortable.  Unfortunately, that position only allowed me to get a shot of her from the side.  Maybe next time I’ll do better as the camera-happy parent.  We had a great time.  Thanks to the Furlows for inviting us!

She's a Natural

 

 

 

 

 

How Can I Explain, When There are Few Words I Can Choose

The sad refrain started about three weeks ago. One night, as we were talking about Hadley’s day while she started to fall asleep, she started to cry. “Why are you crying?” I asked.  “I want my daddy…” she sobbed back at me.  I did the only thing I could think of.  I started saying all of the things I thought would be comforting for a 3 year old who doesn’t understand the concept of death but only knows that others in her class have dads who come pick them up.  How he stayed as long as he could, how happy he was when she was born, how much he loved her, and that he’s always in our hearts.  I struggle with how to deal with the whole afterlife thing.  I’m not exactly devout right now.  I fell off the track in April of 2008.  So I left it at, he’s all around us and watching over us.  She eventually fell asleep. I was left wondering if I’d handled it correctly.

We have repeated this scenario multiple times since then.  I don’t think Hadley’s doing this to manipulate me, but how do I know?  I think this started at about the time we were asked to bring in a family picture to school.  I’m guessing that she noticed that her picture is not the same as everyone else’s.  She’s bright, that one.

One night during our exchange, I said something to the effect that Dad wouldn’t want us to be sad. “I can’t help it…” and she started crying as she said it.  There are so many little things she’s said when we’re talking, I’m not sure what’s really getting to her.  Tonight she said there are only two of us that live here, and our pets, but no one else is here. I have no idea how to help her work through this.  I don’t know if my words are helping her.  I don’t know if my love for her is helping her.  There is plenty of love around her, but I suppose no amount of anything will ever make up for the fact that a person is missing.  Oh dear heart, how I wish I could change things for you.  I’m so sorry that I can’t.

 

Miscalculation

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Today is the 19th anniversary of our first date. What better day than today to donate a lot of the clothes I still hadn’t moved since April of 2008? So on Sunday, I spent some time going through the dresser and closet, explaining to Hadley what I was doing and why when she asked me. It seemed almost flippant to say we were giving them away because he doesn’t need them anymore. But how else do you answer that question? He really doesn’t need them, and he would want someone to get some use out of them.

So I packed the clothes in the car to take to Hadley’s school. They have a charity program and I had asked long ago if they could use clothes. When we walked in this morning, we again went through how we were giving these to other people who might need them. She cheerfully said, “Yes, because Daddy doesn’t need them because he’s not here.” I’m really glad that it doesn’t make her sad to talk about him like that. I hope it never does.

I didn’t think it would bother me. It’s just stuff. My memories don’t cease because the things are gone. It doesn’t make it easier or more difficult to have them gone. It just seemed like it was time. But it did bother me. I didn’t realize it until I walked out of Hadley’s classroom and started to cry. Perhaps it was partly because I remember August 8, 1992 and was grieving, yet again, for another special day that passed without him. Or perhaps it was simply yet another marker of moving forward, alone, when my heart isn’t so sure that’s the thing it wants to do.

I thought that maybe, the fact I haven’t felt that I needed to write for awhile meant maybe it was getting easier. Now I realize that being quiet doesn’t mean nothing is wrong.

She’s My Special Heart

Our first day at the beach

Building a sand castle

Nobody could blow this thing up without an air compressor

Smiles and ponytails

Checking out some books before passing them on

The official vacation photo

And I love her more than she may ever know.