iohelix

Skye had a lot she wanted to tell people today, so here it is.

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(Ed. Note- It may not seem like a lot, but after translation, it expands to about 2 or 3 books worth of information.)

Just had to document how much Skye hates anything in her hair. I did however get her to wear a headband for 2.2 seconds before she wanted to take it out and put it on herself before taking it off completely.

Mr. Angry Boy (ok, that’s just his newborn nickname until he started to smile a bit),  is already 3 months old. There is no doubt how much he has changed our family dynamic for the good, and now our family feels complete. So much so that when I look back at family pics with just Skye, it looks incomplete and for a second I wonder where Ian is and why he’s not in the picture.

Found some hilarious things parents say to their toddlers. I can totally see Benjam or I saying these things completely calmly and in all seriousness:

“I know it’s tempting to put things in your bottom, but it’s not okay!”

“Please stop stuffing lettuce in your ears.”

“Yes, I can see that you have poo poo all over your fingers.”

“please stop stepping on your brother”

“Honey, you have to pull down your underpants when you sit on the potty!”

“Don’t pee on your sister!”

“No you cannot trade your sister for ice cream.”

“Don’t lick the floor.”

“No, Hannah. Dogs don’t need to curl their eyelashes. They don’t need lipstick either.”

“Because 2-year-olds are to little to drive cars. Throwing a fit will not help your case for driving us home from fireworks.”

“No you can’t have coffee for dinner…or ever, for that matter.”

“If I could somehow figure out a way for you to jump into the TV, I’d be happy to let you go to Pizza Planet with Woody and Buz. Until then, you’ll have to settle for Dominoes.”

And my personal favorite,

“What happened to the piece of poop that was in the diaper?”

How is it possible for time to pass by so ridiculously slow yet to suddenly find myself gawking at the number 8?   Has it really been 8 months since mom died?  What a blur. I know some of that is from having a newborn, but grief is a tricky beast that plays many pranks on you. What I think I’ve found most surprising still is my failure to accept the finality of her absence. Sometimes I’ll say a quick prayer in passing on my way to sleep that she will come to me in my dreams just so I can talk to her again; see her alive again. Sometimes when I haven’t had anyone call me for a while, I absentmindedly think, well, at least I can always count on mom calling, before I catch myself saying, oh yeah. The stinging, uniform truth about death is actually quite simple; it just comes down to missing her. I miss her so much, it’s simply painful and nothing else. To have someone play a constant role in your entire life, to suddenly not, will take the rest of my life to get over and a void has been created never to be filled again.

I think one saving grace in all of this,  something that has provided me with real joy again, is my children. Dear God what pure, happiness they bring!   They have been given to me at a time in my life when I couldn’t have needed them more. They will never, ever know what their beautiful faces have done for me at this time in my life. They have given me a reason to hope again, to come out of the darkness. I am all too aware that death lingers only a few  minutes away from all of us at any given time. But the love that they have brought back into my life has allowed me to fight off that fear a little more each day, because I don’t want to live in fear, fear of losing everything and everyone close to me. I want to bathe in their cuteness and not in the fear of losing it.

So on this 8 month anniversary, I don’t think it is ironic that in remembering my own mom, I am giving huge thanks that I myself am a mom. I feel like motherhood has brought me closer to her, helped me understand her a little more, which in turn only makes me sadder in the end, but I am grateful nonetheless for the new insights. There are moments when the injustice of having to live through anyone’s death still angers me, but a bouncing Skye bursting into the bedroom in the morning or watching my new son try and find his hand to his mouth, sweeps that anger away and leaves overwhelming, profound love. I know mom would be so happy about that. She always used to comment on the look that baby-Skye used to give me, when she would recognize her one and only mother; that look of relief that says, hey, I know you and I am happy and comfortable that you are here. I can now see that same look with Ian, but instead of brushing that fact aside, I feel closer to my mom, and Ian, all at once.

So, while I still long for her terribly, I am glad that I am able to have something else to smile about in my life when so much else is missing.