Billie: “Why do we have to say goodbye to everyone all the time?”
“Because ‘Goodbye’ is a great, simple way to say ‘thank you for being in my life.'”
Billie: “what happens if you’re not thankful the person is in your life?”
“Then you hope you only have to say ‘goodbye’ to that person once.”
Billie: “Ok. …Mommy?”
“Yes?”
Billie: “Make sure you say goodbye to me a million times. Every day. And I’ll make sure I kiss you to the sky every time I can.”
“Deal.”
I just walked in on Billie on her hands and knees with a bag of ice in her mouth, tearing her face back and forth vigorously.
“Um. Whatcha doin, love?”
Her mouth goes slack and the bag of ice drops to the floor. She looks at me disapprovingly before saying, “Don’t you remember I’m a badger? Badgers don’t talk.”
She sighed as if exhausted by my lack of intellect, picked up the bag of ice with her teeth, and went back to shaking it ferociously; growling and drooling all the while.
This is my life, guys.
Before this month we had never really met the three year old boy in the apartment above us. He’s lived there for over a year but, despite our many efforts to set up a play date, we very rarely saw him.
Then, three weeks ago, his father passed away.
The mother and grandmother asked us for help so, for the last 3 weeks we’ve been watching him a couple days out of the week, 5-8 hours each time.
In all that time, he’s said 3 words to me. He refused to speak or look me in the eyes. I rarely saw him smile.
But today we had a breakthrough. He hugged me. He told me jokes. We chased squirrels together. He accidentally called me “mommy.”
Billie noticed the change, too. She said, “Wow. You’re smiling now and you have so many words!”
He responded, “Yea. My smile is getting fixed slowly. I have words now.”
I’m doing everything I can not to bubble snot cry on this here playground. That kid just showed me that it’s possible for the heart to shatter and heal at the same time.
Someone once told me: “You should not become a teacher unless you are prepared to get your heart shattered every day.”
I truly believe that advice. It’s one of the reasons I stopped teaching, because I had had my heart shattered twice by what my students were going through and that was enough for me. I just wasn’t strong enough.
…But no one told me that the same held true for parenting.
That there would be moments when my heart would get so wrecked that I wouldn’t even be able to breathe.
And some of it is bittersweet and some of it is devastating but all of it is incredibly painful.
And I am glad that nobody told me how painful it was going to be. I’m glad that they left these moments as a surprise. Because, as devastating as they are, they are also the most rich and beautiful moments I could’ve ever imagined. They completely engulf and enflame you until you’re unable to accept any reality other than the one your child is living in. They connect you to a pain so simultaneously punishing and affirming that it actually breathes life into every embrace and makes every touch, every kiss, every giggle that much more crucial to your existence.
It’s the kind of pain that torches your gut and tickles your skin.
It’s a pain born of love. Of selflessness. Of complete and utter insanity.
And it’s fucking beautiful, ya’ll.
And maybe I am strong enough.
Thanks, Billie. Mommy loves you.
Billie: “If I want my bike to go faster I just scream, ‘BRING IT ON, BABY!!!’ And it goes. That’s how I’m so fast.”
…This kid is gunna revolutionize the world of physical science.
FLASHBACK: August, 2013
“Look, daddy, everybody’s mad at you. And no one is gunna talk to you. And you’re gunna cry like a little baby!!!
Now you’re gunna go to time out, ok? And you’re gunna be really sad, ok? And I’m gunna laugh, OK?!?!”
This is what happens when we try to get billie to eat her dinner. Instead of saying “no thank you” this is what we get.
And every time she said “ok?” She made him respond in the affirmative before she continued.
I’m raising a sadist.
Stray cats rules our backyard. Billie likes to pretend that they’re hers. The latest cat to grace her presence was surreptitiously dubbed “Locke Nemmernon Carrot Robot.”
Now she’s in the backyard with a stick singing “here kitty, here kitty, here here Locke Nemmernon! Don’t you wanna be my carrot robot?”
I’d apologize to the neighbors but it’s a strict policy of mine not to apologize for awesome.
Note to self: “your mom” insults don’t work when directed at your own daughter. Dangit.
FLASHBACK: April 1, 2013
::Billie Translations::
What she means: “why, thank you mother, I do believe you are a delightful chef.”
What she says, “Mommy, you da best maker!”
What she means: “Greetings, sir or madam, pray tell what are you up to?”
What she says: “Aye, Bay-beh, whatchoo doin’, bay-beh?”
What she means: “I am overwhelmed with excitement.”
What she says, “I got, like, ALL the HAPPIES!”
If we’re being honest I like her take on the English language better…
FLASHBACK: November 23, 2013
I just walked in on Billie desperately cupping the poor dog’s face with both hands while pleading, “tell me. Just tell me! TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT TO BEEE!!!”
When I inquired as to why we were screaming at the dog like some wack job televangelist she replied:
“Jazzie won’t tell me what she wants to do with her life, mommy!! I need to know what she wants to be- I NEED TO KNOW!!”
Um. I didn’t have the mental capacity to explain to her, you know, basic animal biology so instead I just told her that Jazzie wanted to be a Lion and paint rainbows with her mane.
So now Billie is in the other room making the dog a Lioness Headress thing out of plastic bags and watercolors.
I can’t tell if I’m a lazy parent or a brilliant arts and crafts teacher.
…That’s true for most days, actually.
Billie's Momma 