Every single word....

...is heard by little ears. Which, quite honestly, is a huge surprise to THIS Mama. I swear sometimes that no one (and i mean NO ONE, not even the puppy) is listening to me. I think that i just talk at times to hear my own voice, which strangely enough, is screaming out saying things that my Mama would once scream say to me. You know, the things that i swore i would NEVER, NEVER< EVER say to MY child?

Yeah.

Those things.

Anyhoo, this morning in the car on the way to school i heard Emma in the back seat chatting away to Pachi and herself. I love to spy listen in to these conversations between the two of them. I marvel at times at how grown up these little chats between the two of them are and giggle at the chats when the conversation turns funny. Stuff like "Pachi! NO FWINGERS IN DA NOSE!" or "Pachi! Don't say dat! We dwon't wlive in da barn!" makes me giggle hysterically to myself and totally makes the drive to school a memory to keep.

Every morning on the way to school, we drive by an old cemetery that has it's name above a big, wooden, spoke wheel. The wheel looks like an old carriage wheel, but at the top of the wheel, there is a piece that is missing, and it looks like it's broken. Emma has been fascinated with this wheel and cemetery. She wanted to know why "dat steering wheeel" was broken one morning and i explained to her that the wheel at the cemetery was a symbol of life. The round circle has no beginning or ending, but this particular wheel had a break in it to symbolize a beginning of life when we were born and the ending of life when we pass away and go to heaven to be with Jesus. The spokes could be the people we love in our lives, or moments that were special.

Of course, the questions from Emma started in rapid fashion. I like to think that i am prepared for these types of questions from Emma, but i just thought that some of these questions would happen later.


"Are we in da heaben too, Mommy?"

No, Emma, we aren't in heaven yet. It's not our time yet, sweetie...

"But WHY???"

Well, sweetie, i think God still has things for us to do on earth. He wants us to take care of others, love them, be kind...

"Wike when we took dose cookies to our fwriends?"

Yes, Emme, just like that. We still have work to do here on earth.

"Is dat where Gabby, Abuela, Ms. Jo are at?"

Yes, that's where Gabby, Abuela and Ms. Jo are at. They are in heaven with Jesus. I bet they look over us to help keep us safe.

"Why do we hafta stay hwere intead of goin' to heaben?"

Well, Emme, it's just not our time yet, Sweetie. We have things left to do, people to love on and take care of. It kinda works that way...

"Gabby, Abuela and Ms. Jo are wrealllly wuckly, Mommy! Dey are with God!"

(I'm a little shocked at this comment from Emma....) Yes, Emma, they ARE lucky! They are in heaven with God!

"When do we get to go to hebvean, Mommy? Can you come wiff me?"

Emma, every one has their own time to go to heaven. I am not sure when our time will be; no one really does. But if we don't go together, God will be right there, waiting for us, so there's no reason to be scared or worried about it.

"I dink that Gabby's Mommy misses her, don't you, Mommy?"

Oy.

I'm in tears now.

Yes, sweetie, i know Gabby's Mommy misses her so very much. But Gabby's Mommy knows that Gabby is with God, so even though it's sad for Gabby's Mommy, she knows that she'll see her again.

"Mwabe i can pwlay with Gabby when i go to hbeaven, right, Mommy"

Damn, damn, damn!

More tears from me...

Yep, Emme, when it's your turn to go to heaven, i bet Gabby will be so excited to play with you!

"WLLLOOOOKKKKK!! Dere's a brown COW! Brown cows gibe chocwlate milk! MOOOOO....."


And just like that, our conversation is over with about heaven as we start to count cows, horses, goats, and sheep....

....and as i count cows along with Emma, i say a silent, quick prayer for Gabby's Mommy who i know must miss her Gabby more than she can ever express.

I'm on a plane with my camera. I'm wearing jeans, my favorite boots, and a long-sleeved shirt with a shirt under that. I have a jacket with me, gloves and my camera bag. I am dressed for warmth. I have my passport in my bag....i'm flying somewhere to take photos. Important photos. Important photos of some place where the world is changing. An important place...where i am going to record history with my camera. I am off on a important trip. I am recording history with my camera. I am traveling...

"MAMA!! PICKLES POOPED ON DA FLOOR!!! MAMA!! BAD PWICKLES!! WAKE UP, MAMA!!"

....with my camera to record the world. I am excited, nervous and thrilled. I am traveling alone with my camera. And then the plane starts to shake...

"MAMA!! PLEASE WAKE UP! PICKLES POOPED! ON DA FLOOR! BAD PICKLES!! PICKLES, YOU ARE IN A BUNCHA TWROWBLE!! MAMA! WAKE UPPPPP!!"

What?!? What?!? Is my plane going down? Are we going to crash? Why is my seat shaking?? Oh, no, i'm dreaming! And my daughter, my beautiful daughter, is screaming at me to wake up because of poop.

I open one eye and Emma giggles. She kisses my nose, and i open both eyes. She giggles some more. I grab her and pull her towards me to kiss and hug her. She smells of baby shampoo and baby lotion. I'm not on a plane traveling to a world changing event with my camera...i'm at home, in my sunny bedroom.

I glance over at the clock that sits near my Mama's photo and notice it is 6am. It is a Sunday morning. I was dreaming again. I'm really not on a plane with my camera, rushing off to take world~class photos of some amazing, stunning, world event in a far off country. No, i'm home and i'm about to get out of bed and clean up puppy poopy.

"Mama, Pwickles is BAD! You gotta clean it up, Mama. I'm hungry. Pwickles is hungry, too. Are you hungry, Mama? I know! Wlets make PANCAKES!!"

"Sweetie, it's kinda early....." i try to tell her.

"But MAMA!! DA SUN IS UP! SEE?!?! And when da sun is up, we get up, wright??"

Early morning logic from a four year old.

I get up, looking over at my sleeping husband who hasn't budged an inch. He has apparently not heard that there is puppy poop on the floor. How can that be?? I guess he's not important enough for this big job of cleaning up puppy poopy. I, however, seem to be. I, Mommy Pooper Scooper of the Puppy and little girls, maker of breakfast, doer of laundry, driver-to-school, am the one for the job. I watch as my husband snuggles into his blanket...wanting to put a pillow over his head in a not-so-soft way.

"Okay, sweetie, show me where Pickles has pooped and you and i will take her outside to do her thing. Then we'll have breakfast and go for a walk with Pickles, okay?"

Emma is thrilled to show me where the poop is. After breakfast, we both get our shoes on, grab Pickles and his leash and set off for a walk together...my dream is still on my mind, however...

I wonder where i was going? Was i flying into a war zone? Maybe Afganistan? Or maybe i was going to take photo of Iraq and how things are going since the military pulled out. Or maybe i was going to do something in Cambodia. I've always wanted to go to Cambodia...or maybe i was going to Thialand. What a beautiful country that is! Maybe some where in Italy, like Rome or Tuscany? Maybe the Pope died. That's not world changing, though, is it? Why would i take photos of that??

Pickles wants to run and so does Emma, so we all run together, laughing and giggling as Pickles is doing her best to keep up with us. Pickles is growing up fast and before long, i am sure she will have no trouble keeping up with us. Doggys and baby girls grow up fast, you know...very fast.

We walk back to our home, Emma is pointing out grass, rocks, trees and dog poop all the way to our house.

"Wow, wlook, Mama! That oder doggy has BIG POOP!!"

sigh...yep, i am raising a little girl in a barn.

At home, i start laundry and Emma is ready to paint some art. The cute husband is up and reminds me that i need to get to the grocery store. We are out of milk, orange juice, eggs, bread....the list is long. I groan to myself as i know that i can't put off going to the grocery store any longer. I quickly make a list and then i do something i usually don't do:

I sneak out of the house to go to the grocery store alone.

Usually, i take Emma alone and it's an adventure. We look at all of the fruits, touch the veggies, look at all of the cereals and poke at the lobsters in the tank in the sea food area. We look at all of the yogurt, trying to decide which flavors we should get. Not today, though...

Today, i sneak out, alone.

I hate the grocery store. Hate. It. Why do i have to go to the grocery store? Why hasn't someone invented a computer program where you check off what you need, the grocery store delievers it, puts the groceries up and then leaves? Surely that is a program worth having if you're a grocery store. I bet all of the grocery stores CEOs are men. That's why this program doesn't exist. Those all important CEOs have wives that grocery shop. I hate the grocery store. Hate. It.

The parking lot is full. How did i forget that the playoffs are today? ggrrr...
I have my camera with me. I take it every where. I'm not sure why, though. What am i going to get a photo of? Bananas on sale? A child throwing a fit? I put my camera in my bag...and go into the store.

I take my time at the store. I wonder up each aisle, one by one. I know the aisles by heart, you know. It's almost a stay-at-home Mom's proof of having a brain, you know, learning and memorizing all of the grocery store ailes. Up and down each asile i go, slowly navigating the entire store as i get the things on my list.

Bananas? Check.
Blueberries? Check.
Onions? Check...

I shop slowly, not really thinking of much. I don't even go by the lobsters.

And then i check out, load up the groceries and drive slowly home where i'll put the groceries up and maybe clean up more doggy poopy. I am feeling sorry for myself as i drive.

I wanted to do life-changing things....but now, i'm the doggy poopy cleaner-upper girl who takes care of a home, a husband, a daughter. I pick out food i know they will like. I do things i know they will like. Where am i? Am i even still here?!? I don't even go to the bathroom alone...my daughter and puppy come with me. I should have traveled more. I should have done something important. I should have taken my camera and traveled the world. I should have seen more. I should have done more. I should have joined the Peace Corps like i wanted to instead of yeilding to my dad's rants. I should have done something more...I should have. I could have, you know. I could have.

Shut up, shut up!! You have an amazing life. A fantastic husband. A beautiful daughter. A home to live in. Food on the table. A cute puppy. Be grateful, dammit. BE GRATEFUL. Others have nothing and YOU have so much. So shut up...just shut up.

I shut up just as i drive into our garage.

The side door flies open as i get out of the car and there are the two that i love most in the world, my husband (who is smiling at me) and my little daughter who is screaming "MAMA, YOU'RE HOOMMMMEEEEE!!" Pickles is even in the garage to greet me, wagging her tail. I am hugged by my husband, my daughter hugs our legs and Pickles jumps around us.

It's good to be home, surrounded by hugs and kisses.

It's good to be home, as i smile to myself...right where i am suppose to be.

Missing Mama....

I wish that i could say that after 5 years, i miss my Mama less.

I miss her as much today, five years since she died, than ever before.

I do "feel" her around me more these days in the things that i do, in the things that i am trying to teach Emma, and in the way i am Emma's Mommy. I feel her when i bake her recipe for Chicken and Rice or bake Snowball Cookies. I feel her when i try to teach Emma how to clean up after herself and tie her shoes. I feel her when i hug my daughter in the mornings....and i feel her when i tuck Emma to bed at night after her prayers.

I still struggle with feeling "cheated" that she is not here physically with me. I get angry at God, telling Him that my Mama should be here with me, that surely I need her more than He does. I also tell him how much i miss her, how much i want her to see the mother i am becoming to Emma. I want her to be here for Emma, to love on her, play with her, teach her Spanish and bake with her. I sometimes scream that it's not fair that He took her from me.

And then i remember that i had my mother in my life for almost 40 years and i feel selfish for being angry at God. I had my Mama for my baby years, my preschool years, my elementary school years, my middle/high school years, my college years and all during my disaster of a first marriage.

My Mama also met Robert in 2006, and who i was blessed to marry in 2007.

She loved him and he loved her. They always joked about going dancing together once she felt better.

That dance never happened.

My Mama never got the chance to meet my Emma; Mama passed away in January 2007 and Emma came home to us in July of 2007. This probably makes my heart ache the most as my Mama would have loved Emma and Emma would have loved my Mama. It's ironic that Emma and my Mama have some of the same, odd personality traits: neither wants to be kissed unless THEY want to be kissed, and neither wants to hug unless THEY want to be hugged.

I don't know how to make the ache in my heart hurt less. I cry some mornings because i just want to call her, to hear her voice and i can't. I cry at holidays, because she is the one that made them special and she's not here to do that anymore. I cry on my birthday because there is no phone call from her, so she can sing Happy Birthday to me in Spanish.

She was an awesome Mama...

...and i miss her so much.