In a world of nut-allergy afflicted children, I did something terribly wrong. And Emily didn't waste any time pointing out my mistake and she served the accusation up on a platter that was accompanied by a large order of sass.
I blame my mistake on having an overly busy life and a slowly deteriorating "mom-memory." I was making Emily's lunch for school, while also trying to appease Charlotte and feed the dog. That's when the big slip-up of 2018 occurred.
After checking off my list of lunches and feeling like I had achieved one of my many tasks, Emily called me back into the kitchen, interrupting a very glamorous diaper change.
The look of disgust on her face said it all. This girl was born with a natural RBF (Resting Bitch Face)and it was never more evident than in this very moment.
"MOOOOM," she said with angst, while holding the sandwich limply in her hand.
"What? What's wrong?"
Believe it or not I actually thought that something very bad happened. Did she fall off the chair at the counter or did she just discover that her guinea pig really did die and she's not coming back?
I was wrong, oh so wrong. And with gritted teeth and evil eyes she said the following words that will be repeated in my head every single time I make her lunch well into her post-college years...
"You put PEANUT BUTTER on my sandwich. I CAN'T have PEANUT BUTTER on my sandwich at SCHOOL."
As she said the words, her eyebrows wrinkled the same way mine do when I think something is just downright stupid, and in that moment I realized that she thought I was downright stupid. And stupid is a word that we don't use in our house.
Following her disgusted words, she pushed the sandwich across the counter as if it was infected with a deadly virus.
I then found myself apologizing to her in a way that was similar to someone who was just caught cheating on their spouse. I did something majorly wrong. And with the lack of trust that a cheating victim has, Emily now checks her lunch box every morning before school.
When you are the parent of a four-year-old girl, there is no getting away with anything. I imagine that this finger-pointing will just get worse over the years.
As a parent, it's important to not beat yourself up too much. It's a hard friggin job. Every day I question whether I've done something that will cause my girls to be scarred for life. It could be something as simple as accidentally saying the word "stupid."
There is an ongoing banter in my head about these things that they will probably never remember, but I will continue to worry about...
"I just called the toy I tripped over stupid. Emily is going to think I'm calling her stupid and she will go through life thinking that she is stupid."
Mommy guilt...it's a lovely thing.
Well, instead of berating myself for these things, today I'm going to applaud myself for one thing that I taught Emily to do quite successfully. One thing that I'm proud of teaching her...
"Dance like no one is watching."
Conversations about life and death are never easy when you are dealing with a four-year-old. But, sometimes they are necessary. Like when a pet dies.
I always thought Emily loved her long-haired guinea pig named Shirley. Or maybe I was just assuming because how can you not love a GP, right?
Well, when Shirley's life came to an end, Emily had a lot of questions. I responded in a similar manner to when I explained where our dog, Baxter had gone. I told her that Shirley went to the farm. But, here's the thing...Emily was an entire year younger when Baxter passed, which means a huge difference in her tender little life. Every now and then she'd ask if Baxter was having fun on the farm, and the conversation was over. But, with Shirley...she wanted details.
And...she wanted to see the body.
You're probably going to think I'm a horrible mother...but I showed her. I showed her the dead body of Shirley. I felt that it was the only way that she would understand that Shirley was there but she wasn't there at the same time.
I prepared to embrace my sweet little Emily with open arms, certain that she would melt into a fit of sobs when she saw her unmoving guinea pig.
But, quite the opposite happened.
Instead, she laughed. She laughed hysterically at the dead pig.
I'm not sure why and I didn't really ask. Maybe she was nervous or maybe she is an extremely morbid child and found humor in the fact that the pig that she had been cuddling with the day before was now dead.
Anyways, months go by and the conversation of life and death comes up again. Out of the blue, in the format that most four-year-olds bring things up, Emily told me that animals die normally but the only way that people die is to get run over by a car and then they go to "Kevin's."
Now, I'm pretty positive there are no little boys named Kevin at her school, so I'm gonna jump to the conclusion that Kevin means, "heaven."
So, while she may be a tad morbid and has me worried about getting run over by a car...at least there is a light at the end of the tunnel and I'll get to go to Kevin's. ;)
What's better than seeing a pup romp in the snow?
Maybe seeing a pup having a drink in a ski lodge. Check out what Barnacle was up to during the snowstorm...