The World According to Mia - Act 2

Scene 1:
Babysitter: Mia, did you poop in your diaper?
Mia: Don't sniff it. It's gross.

Scene 2:
Mia has become fascinated with the fact that Jeff and I have names other than Mom and Dad. She demonstrated this new knowledge one day when the babysitter brought her baby girl, L, with her.
Mia (with authority): Donna is my Mom and you are L's Mom.

Scene 3:
I picked up Mia at camp and was informed that Mia's poopy diaper had overflowed and some had landed on the floor. (Confirming my suspicions that the supervision is rather lax there.) As we drove home in the minivan...
Mia: Somebody pooped on the floor.
Me: Who did that?
Mia: I don't know.
Me: Was it you? (Yes, I knew better than to ask, but I couldn't help myself.)
Mia: NOOOOO

Scene 4:
Mia (to me): You the guy.
Me: What?
Mia: You the guy.
Me: I am the guy?
Mia: Yes.

The World According to Mia - First in a Series

Mia has been becoming quite the conversationalist. Some of the things she says show that she is really thinking about how the world works. I've started keeping a notebook to capture some of these gems.

Conversation starter: Picture of a face with tears coming down the cheeks.

Jeff: Why is he crying?
Mia: His balloon broke.
Jeff: What should he do?
Mia: He go to Kroger. Get Dad juice (i.e., Fresca) and strawberries and blueberries. And new balloon.
Jeff: Then what happened?
Mia: He not crying. He OK.

The Lifebook

In case you were wondering why Donna had written so few blog entries in the last half of July, the answer is: The Lifebook.
I'd started planning and journaling for Mia's lifebook almost a year ago. I have a great guidebook written by Kay Graap that discusses the topics you should cover. Graap recommends that parents create two books, one for the preschool years and another more comprehensive book for when they are older. The latter will cover topics like the one-child policy. I've been accumulating various Asian papers and embellishments and during business trips (back when I had business trips!) I would work on the text for the toddler version - a book that will serve Mia for the next 2-3 years. A couple of weeks ago, I decided it was time to finally get started on creating the book. I've been telling Mia the story of when she was born in China almost every night, and it is high time I gave her the illustrated version.
Up until this point, I'd created all of about 10 scrapbook pages in my entire life. I have tons of supplies from the years when I used to make handmade greeting cards. (In case you are wondering, the card-making has dwindled to the point where I'm lucky if I made my own Christmas cards.) It has taken a lot of time to select the photos and design the pages, but I'm making progress. I've now completed 13 of 25 pages, and hope to complete 3-5 more over the weekend. I'm really enjoying finding my own style. This project could easily take another month. I can't wait to share it with Mia.

The Reader

Mia's new favorite book is One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. I got it about a week ago and she already can finish lots of the sentences. That girl should join the Dr. Seuss fan club. Chicka Chicka Boom Boom is getting a lot of play as well. Mia makes us read it often and has most of it memorized. Our copy of the book came with a CD, and for the past week we've been playing it in the minivan. (A welcome reprieve from Laurie Berkner.) Mia has been requesting Curious George quite a bit: Curious George Feeds The Animals, Curious George Rides, and Curious George At The Aquarium.
K. reports that today when she took Mia upstairs for her nap, Mia picked several of her dolls and stuffed animals off the bed, arranged them on the rocker and said firmly, "You're going to take a nap in my chair." She then proceeded to get a book and "read" them a story. After the story was over, she said sternly, "Now you close your eyes and go to sleep." Did I mention she has entered a bossy stage? We're insisting that she not give her parents orders, but she can boss her animals around as much as she wants to.

Diving to Heaven

Mia's response to Sam's departure appears age-appropriate and empathic.
At the suggestion of the vet- a lovely woman who'd lost her dog when her daughter was Mia's age- we'd warned Mia last week that we were taking Sam to the doggie doctor and she might not be able to come home. We explained that Sam was old and very, very sick. Mia understood this - Sam's illness had been obvious even to Mia. She repeatedly told me that the doctor was going to make Sam better. (Yeah, try holding it together when your daughter tells you that.)
After Sam passed, we explained to Mia that Sam had died, her body didn't work any more and we wouldn't be able to see her again. Mia listened, looked at me and repeated, "Sam died. Mommy sad." then returned to what she'd been doing.
Yesterday, when Mia got up from her nap, she immediately brought up the subject.
Mia: "Sam dived."
Me: "Yes, honey, Sam died."
Mia: "Did she go in the swimming pool?"

My Girls

Having grown up in a household without small children, Sam never got too comfortable with Mia. She would never sit on Mia's lap -which I have to admit is smart if you are a dog with leg bones about the size of a chicken's. She did allow Mia to walk her on the leash. I was able to get them together a couple of days ago for a photo shoot.

My Other Angel

Today is a sad day for me. We lost our little Sammy, my toy poodle of 15 years. Sam was one of the world's greatest dogs. She was a 6 lb. bundle of love. She liked being carried around and I liked it that she was just the right size to fit under my arm. My sisters called me Mrs. Pynchon and other people referred to Sam as my Furball. People think of toy poodles as being nervous and nippy, but Sam had a lovely, calm disposition interwoven with the high energy of a puppy. Until recently, it was difficult to think of her as an older dog.
Jeff and I used to joke that Sam had more friends in the neighborhood than we did. Everywhere we lived, she had a big fan club - vet staff, groomers, dog walkers, and boarding kennels. When she was just a few months old, I boarded her at a vet clinic. When I went to pick her up, the attendant went to the back, then came back out looking harried, saying "I can't find her." The receptionist told her to look some more. Since this was the first time I'd ever boarded Sam, I was concerned that Sam was lost, and a bit puzzled as to how they could have misplaced her. The attendant finally came out with Sam, saying, "I'm sorry, one of the assistants has been carrying her around with her all day."
The last few months have been difficult for Sam, so we knew it would soon be time to say good-bye. Even so, I find myself in a state of disbelief that she is really gone. Throughout the day, I found myself looking for her in her usual hangouts - the couch in my office, the front porch, the sunny spot under the skylights in the playroom. I am now realizing it will take some time to unlearn my 15-year-old routines of letting her out and filling her food dish.
I am trying to find comfort in knowing that Sam had a long, wonderful life with the best care and companionship we could provide. For the last few months, I've been working at home on my job search, and Sam sat on the couch next to me almost every day. We celebrated her 15th birthday on Sunday with a miniature cupcake, complete with pink frosting (color chosen by Mia). I was with her at the end, and I trust it felt no different to her than than settling in for a nap.
Rest in peace, my little lovebug.