too much too soon...

It has been a long couple days.. Thank you all for the rallied support. We needed it. I wasn't really sure how all of the events in the past 48 hours had truly affected my 4 year old son. He had "comforted me" while I cried, by explaining that "it's ok mommy. Don't cry. We can just go back to a farm and get a new goat and call THAT one Sadie". I thanked him, and maybe hid my face as I sobbed just a little harder.

While on our routine dog walk this morning, my son asked very earnestly, if Sadie was "medding" again yet. You see, I actually misstated in the previous post by explaining that goats "baa". They actually do not. It is more of a "m'eh" sound. Hence why my son has titled it "MEH-dding" I thought hard for a moment, quick as mother would have to think and then explained that Sadie was in fact still "medding" but in heaven, and we just couldn't hear it until we get there. He sat quiet for a moment, and then asked when he would be able to "get there too". Ok, so I know what the term, "the talk" is actually referring to, BUT c'mon, this was at least a close second.

"Well, when it's our turn"... When God says in a whisper, "come home..." That is when we will all be reunited with any and everyone who went home first. Which was met by only SILENCE. Score??...

Who could contend with that answer? I then began to pat myself on the back and write the acceptance speech for the, "best mommy-answer of the year" award, but was abruptly awakened from my wishful thinking, Sigh. A child's mind works in ways that one cannot truly explain, no matter how many books you've read, or written for that matter. And therefore, you never know quite what exactly will spill directly from their amazing little brains, right out of their equally amazing little mouths. "Who's turn is it first mommy?" My head bowed VERY low at this point. Perhaps biding time and trying to answer without the likes of theatrical dramatics, or perhaps, simply dreading the seemingly endless on going questioning on the subject "well buddy, Mommy is older, so I probably have a good shot of getting to see her first..." I clinched my teeth, "scrunched" my eyes tight tight TIGHT shut. AND just braced for impact...

He seemed to ponder, sift through, and I could swear there was a slight nod of agreement. And the subject, perhaps having been up to par on explanation, ceased. At least for the remainder of the walk.

We played games, took care of farm duties, and then it came time for mommy's most exciting, and at the same time most DREADED, weekly ritual. Grocery shopping.

While it afforded me time away from the ever beckoning upkeep of our home and now farm, it came with conditions, For instance, my Jekyll and Hyde son, MUST be present, to oversee any and every bit of said shopping. You never know at any given minute which "side" you are dealing with until you've turned your back for less than 5 seconds to glance at a sale item only to find yourself knee deep in soda-fountain sprite. Another favorite pastime is monitoring each and every item on the shelves and vigorously refuting various choices that I make. For example, it is a household rule that absolutely NOTHING good (for you) will ever come out of any food item that sprawls "spongebob squarepants" eerily smiling back at you across the label. However, I seem to find myself in the exact same "tantrum" discussion each and every time this outing occurs.

Then there is the fact that my son is extremely un-shy. Almost to a fault. We were at the checkout, refreshingly without incident, my son was helping to load things onto the belt. The cashier, a sweet  slightly older-than-me woman praised him for being such a "sweet young man" I "encouraged" him to thank her which he did so without looking up as he continued lifting items out of our cart. He finished his duty, and finally made eye contact with the cashier. "Hi!" he almost sung at her, as if she had just arrived. "Well hello," she replied with an amused smile, "How are you today?" she asked kindly.
My son looked at the floor, a scowl suddenly forming on his face, "Sadie died," he divulged. The woman looked a little taken a back, I quickly explained that "Sadie" was one of our goats. She seemed a little relieved, but still drawn in by his need to talk to her about it. She gingerly offered, "Well, I am sure that she is in heaven now." I smiled to myself because this was the EXACT conversation that he and I had had earlier today. I was thankful for the reassurance she was offering him. Couldn't have been more beautifully perfect...

That was the case, until my son picked the conversation up exactly where he and I had left off earlier. He looked the nice old lady directly in the eye smiled excitedly and said, "It's going to be your turn to go to heaven first because you are really old."...

Shame. That is the only word I have to describe how I felt at this moment. The kind of shame I can only equate with one who sets their once live "evergreen" tree that they had used to represent Christmas in their home, at the curb in the middle of a dark February night. A day to late for the refuse-men to pick it up, so there it sits, telling the tale of just exactly what you have done for another WHOLE week for all to see, must also feel.

She kept her smile about her, but was quite quiet after that. I paid, and thanked her to which she very professionally... smiled. I mean really, what else could she do? What else could I do? We were just both "checkmated" by a 4 year old.

I suppose it will be THE topic of conversation when we both arrive in Heaven at about the same time.