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Enter Sandman



It’s already happened – I have already been faced by the heartbreaking reality that I will not always be able to make everything better for Pumpkin. I knew one day she would face loss, or heartbreak, or defeat and I would have to come to this realization, but I never knew it would be so soon. We are raising a pretty sheltered little girl and I was hoping we could just keep her happy and naïve for as long as possible. Then someone taught her about fear.

Fear. It’s such a complex, lonely feeling. I wish she never had to feel it. I haven’t even let her watch Jake and the Neverland Pirates because there is a well-defined “bad guy” in Captain Hook – instead I make her stick to Mickey, Dora, and Blue who have no known enemies. But lo and behold, someone taught her to fear.
It started with big dogs. She has always loved dogs. Then, one day, out of nowhere, she declared that big dogs were “keery.” No big dog has ever harmed her or even gotten within arm’s length of her without adult supervision in her entire life. I cannot even fathom how she knows enough about dogs and their potential to be “keered,” but, alas, she is.

After dogs, came noises. Every once in a while, an appliance will kick on or the house will settle and she will inform me that something is coming to “get Ay-ee.” How heartbreaking is that – to know that your child feels that panic that something is after her (even when I know it isn’t).

All of this led me to realize what some of her sleepless nights have really been about – nightmares. Now, let me say this – as someone who has had extremely vivid nightmares nearly every single night of my life, I have always believed that nightmares were the sign of a gifted mind (ha). So, on the one hand, I cannot say I am surprised my child has nightmares. She is brilliant, after all. On the other hand, however, once again, it is heartbreaking. I walk into her dark room and all she wants is a hug and for me to rock her (all 3 feet and nearly 30 pounds of her) back to sleep. It usually takes a total of 4-7 minutes and she’s back down for the night. But, as her mother, I wish that I could put visions of sugarplums dancing in her head at all times.

So I have realized there are things I cannot protect her from. And even if those things aren’t concrete things – just feelings and dreams – it is a helpless and disheartening realization to know that mama won’t always be able to make things better. For now, I take heart in the fact that holding her erases her fear; but I dread the day when she ever has to know real pain that my hug won’t take away.

On a lighter note (geez, I didn’t mean to be all Debbie Downer on a Friday), Pumpkin is quite the landmark-finding, school-bus-fanatic, fashionista. Let me explain. Every morning I am guaranteed to have three conversations with her, almost verbatim.

The first is that she is going to tell me how someone (usually Pop-Pop) is going to love her outfit. It doesn’t matter what she is wearing – she matter-of-factly states “Pop-Pop lub my outfit.” Those of you that know Pop-Pop will get an extra kick out of this, because Pop-Pop is not exactly a fashion icon, but apparently Pumpkin respects his style.

Then, on the way to school, we are inevitably going to do two things. We are going to locate and scream in delight about every single solitary school bus that we pass on our ten minute drive to daycare. Each one is like the first one – “KOOL BUS!!!!!” She can spot a bus from a mile away, but never doubt her – if she yells out that there is a “KOOL BUS” that is a “KOOL BUS.” Then, every single morning as we approach the local barbecue joint with the pig out front we get (all in one sentence because I’m usually driving 40 miles an hour past it) “hi pig, oink, oink, later gator, pig” (the latter being her new favorite parting phrase, ending with whom- or whatever she is bidding adieu).

So, it hasn’t all been scares and screams. In fact, most of it is pure joy. That makes her pain almost harder to bear, because her joy is so pure, so close to heavenly, that I want her to hold on to it for as long as she can and never let anyone steal it. I know all too well that as she ages she will lose that wonder and delight and I want to delay that as long as I can while we look for school buses and wave at inanimate farm animals.

Later gator.

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