Morbid Mommy Moment
L & M made friends with a little lizard on the sidewalk just outside of our complex. He's a great friend, very fascinating and cute, but the only drawback is...he's dead. I'm not sure what could have caused our little friend's untimely death, but I'm guessing it was pretty gruesome judging by the fact that he is indeed missing a limb. Upon first seeing the lizard, I hoped L & M would not be paying attention to every crack in the sidewalk, but as they miss nothing, seeing a lizard quickly made it to the highlight of the day.
So what's a mom to do? I didn't want them to touch him, so I quickly contrived an elaborate story about how the lizard is sleeping and we have to be very quiet to not wake him up. Maddie immediately got on her tiptoes, put her finger to her lips, and said, "Shhhhh!!" This was two days ago. I had hoped the girls would not remember where our lizard was, or he would have been taken care of by some sort of roadkill crew, but no such luck. Every time we leave the apartment, the girls request to see the lizard on the way home. Yesterday L & M even noticed his "hurt arm" (hurt being an understatement when the arm is no longer attached). And out came another elaborate story about how his mom will put a band-aid on it when he wakes up. This may be getting out of hand, but I don't quite think two year olds are ready to talk about death. So one of these days I'll discretely move him and wait for the next opportunity. In the meantime, we'll continue to talk to our sleeping friend. But L & M know one thing for sure: he is T-I-R-E-D. After what he's been through, I can't blame him. Out of all of this I'm starting to question my reaction to our little dead friend. Am I totally morbid? I'm almost afraid to ask.
So what's a mom to do? I didn't want them to touch him, so I quickly contrived an elaborate story about how the lizard is sleeping and we have to be very quiet to not wake him up. Maddie immediately got on her tiptoes, put her finger to her lips, and said, "Shhhhh!!" This was two days ago. I had hoped the girls would not remember where our lizard was, or he would have been taken care of by some sort of roadkill crew, but no such luck. Every time we leave the apartment, the girls request to see the lizard on the way home. Yesterday L & M even noticed his "hurt arm" (hurt being an understatement when the arm is no longer attached). And out came another elaborate story about how his mom will put a band-aid on it when he wakes up. This may be getting out of hand, but I don't quite think two year olds are ready to talk about death. So one of these days I'll discretely move him and wait for the next opportunity. In the meantime, we'll continue to talk to our sleeping friend. But L & M know one thing for sure: he is T-I-R-E-D. After what he's been through, I can't blame him. Out of all of this I'm starting to question my reaction to our little dead friend. Am I totally morbid? I'm almost afraid to ask.