Dear Helena Rainjer,
This is a pic of my 4th baby Mina. She is the kind of child that within moments of meeting, you clearly see what kind of child she is. Although demanding, curious, and impulsive, she is equally very charming. This is Mina, having a "Mina Moment" She is meeting a little bug who made the mistake of walking where Mina could see it.
See that cute pudgy little finger? That petite little appendage is responsibe for taking her hands many various places. If its rough, she must touch it, if its smooth she must touch it, and by God if its sticky....she must smear it. In this case Mr. Bug was smooth. So a few pokey pokes from Mina and she immediatly fell to eye level to get thisclose. She was pretty pleased with Mr. Bug, and Mr. Bug after a few short pokey pokes, was using all its defense mechanisms to assume the position of a corpse bug. This being my 4th child, I already know whats going to happen, before it happens. That doesnt mean I know how to deal with it, but I do know 5 different outcomes for every "Mina Moment" In this case she did exactly what I expected. She slapped Mr. Bug and then like Mina would, she cried that her hand was dirty. This is where it gets dicey. On the one hand, I am in the immediate situation, you know what Im talking bout. I call it Mom auto pilot, its from point A to point C, without even realizing it. I tell her "well that wasnt nice, buggy doesnt like that" Clean her hand, remind her again, "Be nice to buggy, show me nice" She smooths my arm to demonstrate nice and so we go on our marry way back outside. But that is the immediate sitch. In the back of my head I am slightly amused. Memories come back to me as I remember Helena at the same age accidently killing a roly poly; her crying because she didnt mean too. Laila at the same age quite purposefully stomping on a ladybug; she laughed only because I got 3 different kinds of upset, and so did Helena, "Thats Gods creature Laila, how could you?!" And my little Dom, same age, who took one look at a bug and said "dats yucky" And walked away.
So while I am on mom-pilot, I think of all this and inbetween marveling how each child was so different, I also marvel that my reaction was different. With Helena, I felt her pain, tried to soothe her. Laila, I still felt Helenas pain and while trying to soothe her, I was also frustrated with Laila, killing bugs? Does that mean she will become vilolent with animals?! And Dom I was just confused, Arent boys supposed to like bugs? Should I get him more books about insects so he becomes interested like all the other boys seem to be???
But ahhh, thats the beauty of the 4th child, although she can be stubborn, okay, okay, a nice way of putting it, is she has "preferences" She is still simply remarkable. Before the bug murder she was completly enthralled, that bug held her attention for a good 5 minutes before its demise. She was in fact, very exuberant to see that something so teeny tiny could have legs, and a protective covering, and it held completly still after a few pokey pokes. What made her slap the bug, I will never know, but my best guess is that her excitement got the best of her. And possibly her morbid curiosity. Although her cute, pudgy little fingers have played a hand in violence, I still
love the hands that they are attached to. And the arms, that are connected to her still, sweet smelling shoulders, that are very close to the spot where she loves tickles the best. Which are very near her sticky cheeks that I kiss whenever she will let me. After a long day filled with almost 2 adventures, in a house where 3 other children have various big kid demands, its nice to have a Mina, who continues to open my eyes and let me see things just as they are. Sometimes things get so exciting, you cant help but get your hands yucky.
Labels: RIP Mr Bug
This is my blog, I guess I have no idea what I am doing so since you are reading this allow me to explain, think of it as a disclaimer. I am 24. I have 4 kids. I am married. I am a feminist. An eternal optimist. A music lover. An art appreciator. An advocate for ideals and philosophies that vary on any given day. I am grateful. I am a crier. I am a giver. I am a taker. I talk too much, laugh too loud and embarrass myself frequently. I am openminded. I am forgiving. I have OCD. But I dont do the counting thing. I have been crippled by depression. I have been victimized by it, and have reached the other side as the victor. I have insomnia. I read. I research. I love learning. I take critics and parenting books with a grain of salt. I listen to my gut. I am finding my way in the world. I have seen the village and I will raise my own. I am ruthless. You will find you may not like me. You may find that you love me. I am raising the bar and hoping to exceed all of the statistics expectations. I question everything I read. I believe in the power of people, not our government. I believe in hope. I am eternally optimistic. And I tend to repeat myself to make my point clear.