Give it up

I know I've already blogged today, but I missed a week so I think it's okay. And besides, we just had a very traumatic experience at our house.

It started with our visit to Cincinnati. At my parents house, Hannah fell in love with this tacky little stuffed cat- the kind with a hard little body covered in rabbit fur. She carried it with her every where she went and she slept with it at night. She brought it back with her, and it has been her constant companion.

Today, while Hannah & I worked on this darling little Nativity story book you can illustrate yourself with stamps, Kitty met Sophie. It was not a good encounter. I looked over and noticed something other than rawhide in Sophie's mouth, rushed to remove it, and almost cried when I realized what it was. Furless, in pieces, with only one eye left... Kitty was gone.

In the past, we've quickly thrown out things Sophie demolished and hoped Hannah would forget they existed. Once, to let Hannah know we meant it when we told her to keep her toys off of the floor or Sophie would get them, we left her chewed up Schleich figure right where we found it- scars and all. When she later found it, the curious, concerned look on her face as she asked, "What happened to my panda?" and inspected his disfigurement was enough to keep me & John giggling for a few days (not because we're cruel, just because it really did look like it had suddenly come down with a bad case of leprosy). This time, I knew Hannah would notice Kitty was missing, and I did not want to leave the disturbing little pile of kitty pieces for her to find. I just told her: I think Sophie just ate your kitty.

I have to give her credit: the kiddo handled it better than I imagined. There were lots of tears- it was a devastated kind of cry, and I just held her and told her I was sorry. This was real grief to her- she lost something very special, very suddenly. To comfort her, or at least show her that I understood and survived the same sort of ordeal, I showed her something I lost to Sophie's chewing earlier in the morning: an angel ornament made by my aunt. I'd had it for 20 years, and Sophie destroyed it when we left her alone for 20 seconds. I held Hannah for a little longer, then asked if she wanted to cuddle & watch a movie. She said no, that she wanted to finish the stamp book. She took some deep breaths and asked if we could try to find a new kitty. (We did- that's "new kitty" above.) She fussed again for a bit when I explained that the new kitty would not be arriving for a couple of days, courtesy of a seller on e-bay. And then, to use her words, she "gave it up."

I am so proud of her. When I found Kitty, I was angry. When Hannah found out, I expected DEFCON 1. For a three-year-old, especially one who has not had a lot of sleep in the past week, to be able to say, "I cried & cried, but then I gave it up" is pretty amazing. As an adult, I have let myself get attached to so many things. I have to be honest, I'm still upset about the angel ornament. But I'm thankful for the lesson in letting go, courtesy of my own little living angel.