The fun part of parenting

So something about my mom's death has finally made me laugh. Which is appropriate in some ways, because my mom did have a quite the sense of humor. Although I don't know how funny she would find this in particular.

A little history. Tee was not exactly the easiest child to potty train. She did fine with number one, but it took us for-ever to get her trained with number two. It didn't seem to be an issue of will, so much as an issue of chemistry.

My daughter's diet consists of two food groups. Dairy and fruit. And about every two weeks, she will eat one chicken nugget. This is not for lack of trying, she is served the same food as the rest of the family, but what she eats is almost exclusively dairy or fruit. (This post may get a little graphic for those who do not interact with small children on a daily basis.) Anyway, while one of those food groups has a lot of fiber, the other is very binding, so if the balance of her diet is off, we have complications one direction or the other.

Sometime in the middle of August, almost a year after we started potty-training, the stars aligned and finally she was completely potty trained. A diet delicately balanced between dairy and fruit, supplemented by individual packets of marshmallows as a reward gave Tee the confidence she needed. And just in time because they won't take them at Tee's preschool if they are not fully potty-trained.

All was fine in that realm until I discovered that Tee had consumed too much dairy and not enough fruit last week. I spent my weekend monitoring my daughter's facial expressions and noises, picking her up and racing her to the bathroom, and then insisting that she wear pull-ups so that she could relax. I did not want to go back into potty training mode-I figure I have at least a year hiatus.

So when, Tee let one rip loudly Sunday morning, I of course had to ask, "Did you toot?"

"Not me," she responded. She and I were the only one's in the room.

So, I had to ask who, to which Tee replied, "It was Mammah!"

I can just imagine my poor mother blushing in heaven.

Changes

Last Monday, as we were driving to the gym, Tee was chatting away to no one in particular. It was some lively imaginative game she was playing, I wasn't included so I continued to listen to the radio. Suddenly, with great stress and anguish, Tee announced, "Mommy, I can't find my parents anywhere!"

"Parents?" I asked quite confused.

"Yes, parents?"

"You can't find your parents?"

"Yes."

"Your parents?"

"Yes. My parents."

"Tee," I asked, "Do you know what parents are?"

"What, Mommy?"

Yes, I was startled that she didn't know what the word "parent!" But one thing being a parent of small children has taught me is not to assume anything. I quickly explained that mommy and daddy were her parents. Conversation over, but as I said, I've learned not to assume anything.

"Do you have parents?" Tee asked.

"Yes, everyone has parents."

"Does Daddy have parents?"

"Grandpa George and Grandma Margaret are Daddy's parents."

"No, there is a different one."

In spite of all the deaths, my children have actually had very stable lives. Neither set of grandparents, nor any of their Aunts or Uncles has been through a divorce. And with the exception of my younger brother (who is barely 25), everyone is married with children. Grandpa George, however, has recently began dating a wonderful woman. She is also widowed, and both of them talk openly about the loss of their previous spouse, which I think is wonderful. She has been amazingly kind and supportive to us through the loss of my mother. And most importantly, she makes him happy. They plan on getting married this winter. I clarified that this is who Tee meant. It was, so I began my simple explanation.

"Well, sometimes when one parent dies, the one who is still alive finds another person who is still on earth to marry." So far so good, "So Grandpa George is going to have a new wife, and she'll be Daddy's step-mommy, and your step-grandma."

"We get a new Mammah?" Tee asked with great enthusiasm. She really does like this lady. And this is about my daughter, not me, so matching her enthusiasm, I affirmed her question.

And then the tears came, "But I miss my Mammah with the black hair."

Me too, Tee. Me too.

Time

I really miss my mom today, I don't know why. Just really, really sad. The saddest I've probably been in a long time, and I can't think of why it is hitting me so hard today. This wasn't a weekend we would have done much with my mom. We spent the afternoon celebrating the fourth birthday of one set of twin nieces (daughters of my husband's middle brother) and then stayed the night at his oldest brother's house. It was just a fun, relaxing weekend that had nothing to do with my mom. I guess on the way home, I normally would have called her to check in. But it has been long enough that I don't accidentally call her anymore.

In fact, it has been just over three months since she was killed. A detail that escaped my mind until I tried to figure out why I was missing her so much today. Three months is a quarter of a year. I can't believe it has been that long, and yet so much has happened. In three short months, one of her grandchildren (my nephew) was baptised and learned to crawl; one of them had a birthday, learned to crawl down stairs and walk, and started saying actual words; and one of them finished potty training and started school. That doesn't even count all the cute little things that have been said and done by these children. Or the messes and tantrums that occurred as well.

Several times a day, I think about how I wish my mom was here to share all of these moments, the big, the small, the funny, the cute, and even the horrible. And I also realize that while these little moments and little people seem to magnify the loss of my mom, if they were not here, I think I might truly sink into despair. And maybe that is why I am missing her so much, I don't usually get hours four hours of wide, awake quiet time to think about what has happened like I did today as we drove across the state with two sleeping children. Thank God I have those children, because otherwise I don't know what I would do with all that time.