Me: “… and then we’ll have cake.”
Madeline: “Happy birthdays!”
Me: “That’s right, it’s Becca’s birthday.”
Madeline: “No, my birthdays.”
Me: “Nice try.”
Yesterday was the third midwife appointment. Very regular checkup, I’m kind of an old hat at this. Madeline got to sit on my lap and the midwife showed her an illustration of a baby at about the right size and she pointed out arms and legs and ears and whatnot. Then Madeline got to push the button that turns on the Doppler so we could hear the heartbeat.
Last night…
Madeline: “See baby now!”
Me: “Okay.”
Madeline: “Jelly button?”
Me: “Yes, that’s my jelly button.”
Madeline: “Push button! Heart!”
Me: “Yes, you heard the baby’s heart.”
Madeline: “Baby inside?”
Me: “Yes, the baby is inside.”
Madeline: “Door?”
Me: …
…the four women’s gymnastics events are hanging, falling, jumping, and dancing. Her favorite is hanging.
“Mom, you sound like a snort!”
“Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky that you don’t have allergies and bring me a tissue or four.”
“Okay, Snort.”
Whatever.
“Mom, Mom, the tooth fairy did not come!”
I, in my pre-coffee, just waking up state, exclaimed, “Aw, crumb.” I paused to figure out exactly how much of a whopper I wanted to tell. “I’m sure she’ll come tonight, I’ll bet there was too much noise downstairs for her to come last night.”
“Oh, okay. You need to go to bed early so there will not be so much noise tonight, Mom. You and Papa.”
“Yes, Marcus.”
I am such a horrible mother. Between the excitement of adopting Heather from Spay/Neuter, Inc. and bearings going bad in a U-joint (“Dear, is it really supposed to sound like something’s dying under the car?”) and giving Franklin (the other cat) a bath and generally riding herd on the kids, making the crucial substitution of money for tooth had completely slipped my mind.
It doesn’t help that Matthew, now that he is awake, is sitting next to me smirking and saying, “Bad Jennifer! Bad!”.
“Mom, I had to get Becca wet with the hose because we don’t have a swimming pool. If we had a swimming pool, I wouldn’t have to use the hose.”
The conversation went something like this:
“Hon, I’d like to visit my parents for Easter.”
“But I can’t come with! How is that a vacation?”
“I’ll make a big batch of sweet rolls before I leave.”
“Okay!”
Becca: “Mama, can a snowman fly?”
Me: “No, Becca. In the movies and on television and in make-believe, snowmen can fly, but real snowmen that are made out of snow can’t fly.”
Marcus: “But Mom, we can make a snowman out of cardboard and put it on a string and fly it like a kite, and then the snowman will be flying.”
Me: “Okay… but… .”
Becca: “Can a snowman hop?”
Me: “No, Becca, snowmen are made out of snow and are not alive. They cannot hop.”
Marcus: “But Mom, we can build a snowman on a jackhammer and then it will hop.”
Words fail me.
And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge.
Until, when chance came, it ensnared another bearer.
Galadriel, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)
“Yes, I’d like to make appointments for well-child checkups, please.”