January 2, 2017 (Past Bedtime)

*Is goes to bed and about five minutes later, I’m in the basement throwing sheets into the dryer, when I hear her on the monitor in my pocket, “Oh no!”*

“What, Is?”

“I forgot to put Lammie to bed!”
“Oh, baby, it’s okay, I can do it- you’ve got school tomorrow. I’ll take care of Lammie, don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

**I think that’s the end, and make a mental note to tuck Lammie in somewhere cozy when I get back upstairs. And then…**

“So…I think she’s on the porch, I don’t think she’s in the living room, but she’s all alone, and she’s maybe on the table in the porch, you know, the pointy table. You have to put her in the pink thing with the Velcro back, the one with no sleeves, it’s soft, so she’s not too hot, because then she won’t sleep. The sleeveless one. And then put her blanket that has butterflies on it, and the bed, and if you could do it, put her on the red couch, with the colorful pillow.”

***Somewhere in the middle of Isobel’s directions, I grab a little notebook and pen and start taking notes. She’s counting on me, so totally seriously, to put her baby to bed. I start thinking how funny it would be if I did it PERFECTLY, the way the kid wants, because, clearly, she had a plan… and it’s such an easy thing to do (maybe sometimes), to put a beloved doll away properly for any child… So now, I’m leaning over the washing machine, laughing and writing, (which is why I have it down EXACTLY as she told me). The next second, there’s a clatter on theĀ  stairs, and Munkle comes flying into the room holding up Lammie. He’d heard every word through her bedroom door and was concerned that Isobel was so upset. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who wanted to make sure Lammie got tucked in.***

“I’ve got it. And we’ll give her lots and lots of kisses and hugs, don’t worry.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“It’s the FUCHSIA pink one, okay?”

“I got it.”

October 20, 2014

*Making dinner… or trying to, anyway*

“Is, please just give me a minute to finish… once this is in the oven, I’m all yours. Okay?”
“Okay. Why do you have to make dinner?”
“Well, it’s dinnertime, and everybody’s hungry, right?”
“Yes! I’m hungry!”
“Okay, good. So I’m making dinner, and Grandma’s coming over, and we’ll all have a nice meal together.”
“Is it Biggie’s mac and cheese?”
“No, pork roast with carrots & other vegetables, with herbs from the garden, and potatoes with sage and thyme from the garden.”
“Mom! I hate potatoes!”
“I know, and I still don’t understand it.”
“I don’t know, either. But I hate them.”

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October 17, 2014

*Is brings her iPhone into the bathroom to play with during my shower this morning. I step out of the tub and am drying off when Is points the phone at me and…*

“Mom! I took a picture of your boob!”
“Uh…”
“Oh ho! Two more pictures!”
“Is, please stop taking pictures of my boob.”
“No way, Mom!”

**Then she follows me into the bedroom while I’m getting dressed, then walks back to my bathroom, sits on the floor, points the phone at the toilet, and says…**

“Mom! I took a picture of the toilet!”
“Oh…”
“Yes! Oh! Lots more pictures of the toilet!”

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October 2, 2014

*On the way home from school today, Is sees a woman walking her dog*

“Mommy, where’s that Mommy’s kid?”
“The woman with the dog?”
“Yes! Where’s her kid?”
“I don’t know, Is… maybe her kid is home… or maybe she doesn’t have a kid.”
“Why?”
“Just because a woman is grown, doesn’t mean she’s a mommy.”
“But, she’s a grown up!”
“Yes, and a lot of grown ups are parents… but a lot aren’t… like Maureen. She’s grown, but she’s not a mommy.”
“But why?”
“Well, there’s lots of reasons women might not be mommies, or want to be mommies.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s working right now.”
“I miss her. I bet she needs a hug.”

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September 24, 2014

*Today, while Is was BACK IN SCHOOL(!!!), I moved all the furniture out of the kitchen and washed the floor, letting it dry while I picked her up*

“Mom! What happened here?”
“I washed the floor, so I had to move the chairs and stuff… it’s so nice and clean, look!”
“But, Mom… I need to.. I need… where’s the garbage can?
“It’s here. See, now I can put everything back; the floor is dry.”
“Why?”
“Oh, they mark up the floor when it’s wet, and they kind of get in the way of mopping.”
“I want to mop!”
“Sure thing! You can do it next time, okay?”
“Okay. I like the floor all clean and nice…”

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September 23, 2014

*The town finally sent a crew to take the dying tree down out front… Is and I watched in fascination as they dismantled it, then fed it to the wood chipper*

“Mommy, they’re taking down the tree!”
“I know, Is, isn’t it interesting?”
“Um... Mommy… where are they taking it?”
“The branches? They’re feeding them into the wood chipper, see? That turns them into mulch they’ll use to make other plants grow.”
“But… Mommy…”
“Yes?”
“Why aren’t they taking the tree to the hospital?”

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September 21, 2014

*Is has been getting up at 6 AM… This morning, I took my pill, got up with her, and was sitting next to her while she ate breakfast at around 6:30 AM*

“Mommy, where’s your tea and toast?”
“I have to wait another half hour to eat, Is.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I took my pill… I can’t eat for an hour after I take it.”

**She puts down her waffle and looks at me with concern**

“Oh, Mommy… that’s so sad. I’m starving.”

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