"Put them back," you said with an expression of distress, motioning me to put the flowers back in the earth. "We can't put them back once we pick them," I said.
"I don't want to pick daisies anymore."
Pointing at the picture of our deceased cat Odysseus, you wanted me to tell you about him. I told you what a special cat he was, and how much we loved him, and how he got sick one day, and died. "And he got better," you said, with excitement. "He died," I said. "He doesn't breath anymore. His heart doesn't beat. He didn't want to die. He loved us very much, and if he met you, he would have loved you too."
You started noticing every use of the word "death" or "dying." and then you said: "Tell me a story about dying, mommy." Not the request I was expecting to have from a 2.5 year old, nevertheless, I wanted to satisfy your curiosity without scaring you, without lying to you and without confusing you.
"Well, Zoe, everything that's alive, dies. Flowers, animals, people." I felt it was easier to focus on the accidental, untimely death of plants, and the natural, age related death of animals and people.
"When we pick flowers, they die." When we don't pick them, they live longer."
"I don't want to die," you said."
"You are very young and healthy, Zoe." Old people die.
This dialogue has been coming up over and over. One day you asked Papa:
"Am I old?"
"No," said Papa. "You are young."
"How old am I?" you asked.
"You are two and a half years old," Papa replied.
"So I AM old," you said.
My little girl, you are not old, but you are very very smart.
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Lately several times a day you've been saying: "I wish we had another baby. We need a head, a belly, toes, legs..."
"Babies first grow inside the belly," I said.
"Will put the baby in MY belly," you said with excitement. "I'll also put some toys, so the baby can play!"
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You blew a dandelion flower into the wind and said "I made a wish."
"What did you wish for?" I asked.
"I wished that you were happy and played with me," you said.
"I AM happy. You make me happy all the time. And we play a lot together, I said."
We were pretending to have a birthday party, and we pretended to blow the birthday cake candle.
"What did you wish for?" I asked
"I wished that you would be so completely proud of me."
I was surprised and proud that you didn't wish for a toy or chocolate, and I tell you at least 3 times a day how proud I am of you. So much so that when we switch roles, and you pretend to be Mommy, and me Zoe, you always say "I'm SO proud of you."
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We've been slowly teaching you the value of saving, not wasting, whether it's money, water or electricity.
The money in your piggy bank is slowly increasing. I asked you what you'd like to buy with it.
"Peanut butter jar," you said.
"You don't need to spend your money on peanut butter. I can buy you that," I said. The truth is, you don't like peanut butter. You see it in cartoons and books, and other kids eating it. But you never want to eat peanut butter when I give it to you.
"A nice big house or a nice small house," you said. You probably heard me say that before.
"That's too expensive. You might not have enough in your piggy bank to buy a house. Papa and I are trying to buy one. What else would you like to buy? Maybe a toy? A candy?"
"I don't need anything."
We were at the drug store where you saw a big fluffy toy sheep. "So wooly, you said and asked to pet it. I so want to get you everything you want. But not only that it is financially unfeasible, it is also wrong. I secretly checked the price, and kept quiet, wishing you wouldn't insist. You must have read my silence - you were always good at reading emotions. After a while you said "we'll put it back." Then you saw a little fan, shaped like a bunny, filled with candy. You played with it, got so excited. "Can we bring this home, mommy?"
"Let's have a talk," I said. "Do you really want it?"
"Yes."
You will not ask to buy another toy today?
"No, promise."
"Ok, Zoe, you can have it."
You have been enjoying your candy filled bunny fan.
I love you.
Mommy.
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