A Conversation that Aged Me - Literally and Figuratively

Last night when The Love Fairy was the only one in the tub, she sat back down after I soaped her up and she slipped back slightly and gently bumped her head on the side.  After the little head bump, our conversation went a little something like this:

Love Fairy:  "Our bathtub is not as hard as yours is upstairs, mama , so I won't die when I bump my head on this bathtub, right?"

Me: "Of course you won't die honey, not from bumping your head like that!"

Then I remembered that my dude and I are always telling the kids not to stand up in the tub and to be careful because, "You could slip and fall and...uh, die."  

Okay, I didn't think we said "die" but maybe we had.  I know for a fact we say "You could slip and fall and really really get hurt." Hmmmm.....note to self, the kids ARE listening.

The Love Fairy: "When I die mama will I be able to open my eyes?"

Me:  "Yep I think so.  It's just that when you open your eyes in heaven, things might look a little different."

The Love Fairy:  "Will I see clouds and waterfalls?"

Me:  "Sure..."

The Love Fairy:  "And in heaven I will get to meet the precious God!! Who is God to the entire world!"

From what I know I have never ever referred to God as precious.  So sweet, I thought.

Then she sits back and looks up at me with these peaceful blue eyes and says, "Mama, are you gonna die before I do?"

Oh, how I love death conversations with the kids.  Really gets me spinning.

Me: "I sure hope so!"

The Love Fairy: "NO!  I don't want you to die first!  I don't want to be without you! Maybe I'll die first!"

*gulp, swallow, heart, heart, gulp, breath, the thought, oh please*

Me:  "Oh no sweetie.  That's not gonna happen and don't worry because I'm not gonna die for a long, long time."

From my mouth to precious God's ears.

The Love Fairy: "Really, how long?"

Me:  "Oh, I'm gonna be around for so long.  I'll probably live to be one hundred years old!"  

Okay, maybe NOT from my mouth to precious God's ears.

The Love Fairy:  "One hundred??"

Me:  "Yep."

She pauses, her little wheels spinning.

The Love Fairy:  "How old are you now?"

Me: "41."

The Love Fairy:  "Oh my gosh! That IS almost one hundred!"

Yikes.

Oh precious God, let's try and keep these death conversations to a bare minimum.  

 

Quote of the Morning

As my dude and I stood in the kitchen this morning cramming our breakfast down our throats while packing CR's lunch, brewing the perfect cappuccino, sweeping up the third bowl of Cheerios El Destructo dumped on the floor, emptying the dishwasher, making The Love Fairy's breakfast, filling the dogs' water bowl, feeding that damn goldfish CR won too many months ago at her school festival, trying to get the lil' dude to stop screaming for the Doritos bag for breakfast, and of course, checking my all-important email, The Love Fairy stomps in and says in her 4 1/2 year old screechy demanding way...

"May I please have some orange juice my servants?"

Holy shit.  

Is it that obvious?

And how in the hell does she know how to use "servants" in a sentence?

Her appetite for gifts is insatiable

On Friday night, December 26th, as I was tucking The Love Fairy into bed, I leaned in close, rubbed her nose with mine and gently kissed her gorgeous face.   As I said good night and was about to get up to leave, she said,

"Mama?"

"Yes, honey."

"I know we just had this Christmas but how many days are left before the next Christmas?"

With wrapping paper and Santa gifts scattered all over the house, lightning-fast thoughts of "holy shit - she has got to be kidding me" ran through my thoroughly exhausted brain.  Despite my utter disbelief that this question was being asked, I was able to muster the calm response of,

"About 364 days are left before the NEXT Christmas."

"Is that a long time?" she asked.

"Yep, it's a pretty long time."

But I have a feeling it'll be here before I know it.  

I better start cleaning up before the next onslaught. 

It may very well take me 364 days to do it.

ALERT! Supermom spotted getting her ASS KICKED!

Oh yeah, leave it to the mommy universe to shrink me way back down to size after my glorious Friday.   Today I feel like I'm been knocked down in the WWF ring of mommydom and I'm struggling to get back on my feet as the ref counts to 10.  

Not sure how it all happened exactly but it started with The Love Fairy getting simply hammered by a full-speed trip and face slam on the playground during CR's Saturday morning soccer game.   I didn't see it but another mom said she missed a step on her way up the playset stairs and her mouth took the brunt of the fall.  As I'm so lame at blood and all things crucial, thank God my dude was there to handle the trip to urgent care.  No need for stitches was the report and her prescription?  A friggin' lollipop.

Well, in my humble mommy opinion, why in God's name the nurse sent her home with a lollipop is beyond me as this was way more than a "lollipop injury."  I mean, she didn't even BEGIN to open her mouth until late today and the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday was spent with her drooling bloody spit through an ice pack fixed to her mouth.  Her normal stunning visage was turned into that of a Neanderthal child.  She couldn't open her mouth to eat or even drink through a straw so I was left trying to keep her hydrated with a little syringe.  NOT my idea of a whopping good time.

Don't get me wrong.  I love being the mommy that she needed me to be.  All nurturing and reassuring and yes, why don't you fall asleep lying on my belly up in "mama's bed."  BUT it's really hard to be that attentive of a mommy when I have El Destructo whining and hanging on my legs every other second.  I'm in love with that little devil but sometimes....it all just starts cramping my style.  I start getting all claustro and well, my mood just starts nose-divin'.

And nose-dive it did.  My poor man.  He had to suffer through his wife turning one of his sacred days of rest into a bitchfest.   Today was spent with the Love Fairy still holding a towel to her face as the spit pooled in her little puffed-up mouth, CR stuck to the escape that is Littlest Pet Shop games on the computer, and El Destructo alternating between trying to grab at simply everything he's not supposed to have (scissors, permanent markers, iPhones, computer keyboards, etc.) and crying at my feet.  And I was a hell-bitch on wheels just flying around the house feeling angry about how my peaceful weekend was being robbed by needy kids.

The day started winding down when we made the decision for me to take The Love Fairy to ER to further check out her mouth.  Oh, spending a Sunday evening in the emergency room.  There are no words.  But the good news is that the doc says her jaw looks stable but I should have her teeth looked at tomorrow by a dentist.  While waiting for her discharge papers at ER, I heard a doc handing out some Vicodin to a dude next door who had some leg pain.  

Note to self: Next time when I'm in the ER with one of my kids, complain of leg pain.