Friday, October 28, 2011

everything in my heart, I love

Do you know how much I love you?

 He shakes his head, both back and forth and right to left. Smiling. Flirting.

I love you as much as the sky, and all the stars, plus infinity and an apple.

He shakes his head again. No. He says no with his whole body, moving from leg to leg, like a vehement, Tribal No Dance.

Oh, but I do, my love. I love you as much as everything. It is too much for my heart to contain, so I must scoop you up and shower you with kisses.
He giggles. A full-body no turns into a full-body giggle. It is the dance we do together. Nos and kisses. He says no. We kiss. We sit nose to nose. Lots of nos and noses. They are starting to look alike, Beezus and Thor, and like me. Can you ooze gratitude? Can you stink of love? Because it emanates from me. I reek of it.

Thor's eighteen month appointment was yesterday. He has grown two inches in three months. He cries when he sees the Dastardly Nurse and her evil sidekick the Doctor. Everything is terrible in that place. Everything is terrible when you are eighteen months and have to sit still in your diaper. The nurse asks me every appointment how many siblings he has. It is the question that follows, "Does he live with both parents?" and precedes, "Any pets in the home?" And so I know they mean, "How many siblings in the home?" But it always catches me up. I don't know how to answer it. So, I stammer a "One" and wonder for the next half an hour if I should correct it. This is my pediatrician. The same one I have had since Beezus was born four and a half years ago. It seems strange that they don't know about Lucia, but they don't. I was pregnant, then I wasn't, then I had another baby. They never cared for our second daughter. She died before pediatricians. They skipped over that chapter in our daughters' lives. Maybe they didn't realize Lucia lived and died and Beezus and Sam and now Thor and I grieve and mourn and scramble. Maybe they didn't care. (And it is okay that they didn't and don't care.)

Our family is beautiful with him. It was beautiful with the two of us, then her, then her, then him. And a little tail wagging him in the background. Even if the second her died. Even if. Maybe because. Sometimes I think Lucia created our family's beauty, just like she would have if she lived. I have to think that, or I will think something else. Each member of our family is a different element of its beauty. I used to say things in the beginning like, "It isn't supposed to be this way." "She should be here." But now, I don't.  It just is this way. I don't know if that is resignation or acceptance. Those things are different, but they get you to the same place. Just like defeat and surrender.

Thor carries a baby doll around now. Santa brought him a little cloth boy doll named Lucas. In boy style, he played with the box rather than the baby. He was eight months old at the time. I thought I could use the doll as a bartering tool when he grabbed Beezus' doll Stella, or Babydoll. That never worked, incidentally. But in lieu of a blankie, or binky, or wooby, or strange shoe, he has grown attached to the doll in the last week. He sleeps with Lucas in the crook of his arm. Sam tried to remove him one night, just ease it out slowly imagining horrors of suffocation by baby doll, but Thor's eyes opened suddenly. He gave Sam the stink eye and he grabbed Lucas again, pulled him close, closed his eyes, and fell back to sleep. He has taken to carrying the little boy doll with him everywhere, kissing him, making the little boy kiss me. He cried yesterday when he didn't have it in the car, and I ran inside and searched for it.

He can have his baby, even if I can't have mine.

He smiled, shook his little hands in exuberance as he tucked Lucas under an arm. When he grows up, he will be a Daddy Bunny.

The soundtrack of our life is Beezus. She sings now, all the time. She writes her own lyrics. She skips and sings, arms raised above her head.

Everything in my heart, I love love love. (click click)
Everything in my heart, I love.
Everything, everything, everything.

When she isn't singing, she is talking. The teacher told me she is very quiet at school. I thought she was teasing me. But then I pictured Beezus tucking herself behind my knees, peeking out. She has always been shy in front of others, a quiet observer, so yeah, I get that. I accompanied her class on a pumpkin picking field trip a few weeks ago and sat next to the teacher. The teacher told me that a boy has a crush on Beezus. He chases her everyday, but he never catches her. I asked Beezus about it, and she said, "All the boys chase me, but I am too fast." And I say a little prayer, "Let her be too fast for a long time, Lord."

As we drove to Thor's eighteen month appointment, Beezus sang a brand new song.

The Earth is better than my heart. The Earth is better than my heart.

Are you saying, 'The Earth is bigger than my heart' or 'Better than my heart'?


Oh. What does that mean?

It means the Earth is better than my heart.

Oh, okay.


  1. There are so many things about this post that I adore. Let me list them:

    1. The pediatrician's office. I stumble on those same answers. At first it made me wonder, "why don't they care?" And then it didn't. They just don't. And that's OK. Hooray for good checkups :)

    2.The baby doll. E has been clamoring for a baby doll for a few months now, and he's really hoping Santa will bring him one. One with brown skin who cries and whines. He actually woke up one night crying for a baby doll. It nearly broke my heart.

    3."I don't know if that is resignation or acceptance. Those things are different, but they get you to the same place. Just like defeat and surrender." I am getting here myself. You've really nailed it here.

    4.Singing Beezus. You have an Atalanta on your hands there (from "Free to Be?").

    I needed this today, thanks. Also, thanks for all the space I've taken up in your comments ;)

  2. Oh, gosh. I'm longing for that acceptance. Or resignation. Just to get to that place. I'm glad to hear you've found it. At least today?

  3. Your Thor and Beezus, they are amazing. Reading this I feel certain that Thor will be the best daddy bunny ever and that Beezus and her band will go far. I hope she's too fast for a long time, too.

    I think I'm still rather far from acceptance or resignation, but I can feel it sneaking up on me. It may find me yet.

  4. "Sometimes I think Lucia created our family's beauty, just like she would have if she lived".

    I just love that. To imagine that they brought something so special to our lives.

  5. Sweet little ones.. I like to say 'I love you bigger than the sky'.

  6. Beautiful post. Take care.

  7. Angus has recently grown very attached to a toy monkey. God help us if we lose that thing!
    And I get the, this is how it is thing. I want Hope here. I wish I had her. But I know if I had her, I wouldn't have my other two. I just wouldn't. Life would not have panned out that way. I love my life now. I love my kids so yeah, I guess I am edging my way to acceptance. Not that she died, but that this is how it is now.
    Lovely post.

  8. What a spectacular post!
    These children of they do lift up our souls and breathe life into our hearts. I too play fun kissing games with Kai. I love the intimate sharing of love with our sweet boys. We both know it will not go on forever. Will I always be able to tackle him down and pretend to eat the sprinkles (freckles) off his nose? :)

    "Sometimes I think Lucia created our family's beauty, just like she would have if she lived."

    Oh how I want to believe this!

    As far as the pediatrician goes? well I told them Camille died when I took Kai in becaues it is a significant source of stress for our family and I know it affects him. I want them to know everything so things are not overlooked like stress causing stomach aches. I did go on one occasion and the NP never asked me about our daughter, she saw me pregnant so many times. Hugged me while pregnant...never a word. It is strange, I braced myself for her questions that never came.

    I loved this post.

  9. --I used to say things in the beginning like, "It isn't supposed to be this way." "She should be here." But now, I don't. It just is this way. I don't know if that is resignation or acceptance. Those things are different, but they get you to the same place. Just like defeat and surrender.--

    YES! Everything in that passage I relate to so much and it just makes sense! I've never thought about resignation and acceptance being so similar. Great post.

  10. I LOVED this post - completely and utterly. The stink of love emanates from this post as much as it does from you. So much love - and I recognise it here, in my life too. Thank you for expressing it so beautifully.

  11. Gosh, you really said it all with the acceptance piece. So beautiful, and so true... I had to post a link to you to share with others.

  12. This post made me smile. Thank you, Angie; thank you, Thor; and especially thank you, Beezus, for that exuberant song. : )


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