Momnesia

One of Those Parenting Situations Where You Just Don't Know What to Do

AUGUSTA, GA - Towards the end of the day today, Emmie got very agitated. I couldn't figure out what the heck was bothering her, and nothing that we did seemed to put her in her usual mind set.

When I put her to bed, it was an unusual battle. And shortly after I left the room I heard her crying.

"Uuhhhh... I miss my doggie!" She cried.

Oh, Scrabble. The little rat terrier that we loved so much we even made up a theme song for him.

Her tear-stained face gleamed in the dark, crumpled into a caricature of herself. Her shoulders heaved and she clutched the rag doll that had been a gift from my sister.

"Mama!" She heaved. "I miss my Scrabble I miss my doggie I want him to come baaaaack!"

I don't.

Scrabble was a good but disobedient dog, and we're all allergic to dogs, so before Scott came home from the hospital, I had to find a new family for him. We all feel better since he's been gone, with decreased sniffles, fewer sinus infections, and Emmie doesn't cough all night like she used to.

"Ohhhh, honey," I cooed, and wrapped my arms around her. "I miss Scrabble, too."

I also had to find a new family for our cloth couch and chair, and our curtains. I don't miss those. They were hideous.

"Honey, do you remember why we had to find a new family for Scrabble?"

"Because he make Daddy siiiiiiiick," she sobbed.

"Yes. Mommy had to make a choice between Scrabble and Daddy, and I chose Daddy. Don't you think that was the best choice?"

"But my heart is brokeeeeeeen," she cried.

And now mine is, too.

I had to replace our mattresses and pillows, and cover them with hypoallergenic covers. I had to toss out some clothes, some random stuff around the house, and generally find ways to make things more streamlined and less dusty.

But Scrabble was the hardest decision to make. He was a rescue dog who loved Emmie like she was his sister. They had moments of true interaction, and understood each other when neither could speak.

"Honey, mama is very sorry that your heart hurts so much."

Suddenly she stopped, her eyebrows raised, her mouth open: "I know just the plan!"

Uh-oh.

"We'll go around to all da yards and all da houses and look and find Scrabble and dem he come home!"

"Sweetie... I am so sorry. But Scrabble has a new family who loves him. He's happy. And we can't take them away from each other."

It was - of course - not what she wanted to hear. Histrionics ensued. It was very hurtful. But these are her emotions, and even though it's been a year since we've seen the dog, she has a very clear memory of him.

I know that if we still had him, he'd sleep in Emmie's bed every night. And we would let her. But at the moment, it didn't look like anyone would be sleeping in her bed. And then I had an idea.

"Honey? Maybe would you like it if we found you a goldfish to love?"

She stopped crying. Instantaneously. It was incredible. Her eyes lit up. She smiled a real smile. Then she threw her arms around me.

"Yes!" She squealed. "A goldfish! My own goldfish?"

"Your own."

"An' it can hab a little bowl, and I can talk to it and we can be friends!"

Wait - what does she think that fish do? But she's off.

"An' it will be shiny and sparkly and it don't hab no fur to make Daddy sick!"

"Yes, that's right."

"Well, the BIG DADDY one hab a little fur."

"Um, no. Where would you like to keep your fish?"

"Right here!" She patted the dresser next to her bed. But I had a vision of her trying to snuggle the fish bowl when going to sleep.

"Um, why don't we find a place for the fish in the living room? Then the fish can be with us all the time, and not in here all alone."

"Okay!" She agreed.

"Alright. So, sometime this week, we'll go to the pet store and pick out a fish."

Her arms still wrapped around my neck, she gave me a big, wet, slobbery, boogery thank-you kiss and equally squishy hug. Then she settled down into her blankets and snuggled her doll. Calm. Happy. Serene. I kissed her cheek.

"Danks, mama. Goonight."

"Good night, sweetheart."

"Mama!" She called, as I neared the door.

"Yeah?"

"Can it be a pink goldfish?"

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