Van Gogh: Part II
December 2nd, 2008
Same deal. I lie next to Soph as she reads The Little Princess. She clearly has not gotten far, as she points to the fancy cover and says to me, “See, if you give me everything I want, I’ll turn out juuuuust like her.”
I start laughing. We have had this conversation, versions of it, before.
“Kid,” I say, “it’s a GIFT that I don’t give you everything you want. People who are given everything they WANT never have a reason to go out in the world and find their own happiness. They aren’t prepared to face challenges. You’ll thank me someday.”
She scowls, then goes back to reading. I close my eyes.
“What’s ‘trials’?”
I open my eyes and take a look at the sentence. Ah. Perfect.
“See, that’s what I mean. Trials are challenges. You don’t know what kind of person you are, that’s what she’s saying, until you’ve been challenged. Until you’ve faced hard times. THAT’S when you find out what you’re made of. Nobody knows who they are until they have to handle the rough stuff in life.”
“I’ve faced hard times. The divorce.”
I nod. I try not to bite my lip. “Yep. Exactly. And you’re handling that well. It’s hard, and it doesn’t mean you’re not sad, but you’re growing from it. Even when it doesn’t feel like anything good is ever going to come out of it. You’re growing and having a chance to become compassionate and kind and amazing.”
She looks at me with great sympathy. “And you have the same disease as Vincent Van Gogh.”
Oh dear. Back to the Polar Bear Disease.
“Well…um, not exactly the same one, but yeah. He had a pretty rough time. He made beautiful art, though.”
She goes back to reading her book. I pass out on her little yellow pillow. When I wake up a few minutes later, I sit up to leave.
She drops her book and plants her hands on my shoulders. “STAY!”
“Honey, it’s late. Too late.”
She does her snake-charmer voice. “What if I give you a HAAAAAIIIR massage?”
She knows my weakness. “A hair massage.”
“You knoooooow yoooou WAAAAAAANNNT ooooone….say YESSSS…”
I cave. “Okay.” I plop face down on her bed, and she climbs on my back.
“I just invented a new hair massage, just for you,” she croons.
She digs her hands into my hair, rubs, and yanks.
“Ow! Don’t pull it. It’s already going to fall out, let’s not make it go any quicker.”
“WHAT?????” she howls, ripping her hands out of my hair like it’s diseased.
I try to explain. “Oh, it could. Maybe not. The new medicine is really strong and weird. It can make some people’s hair fall out.”
She GASPS! With UTTER HORROR! “YOUR HAIR COULD FALL OUT? ALL OF IT?”
What a kind child, I think, mother-smugly. So empathetic! That’s my girl!
Sophie climbs off my back. “You are NOT taking us to school like that.”
Entry Filed under: Uncategorized, Tattletales. (Mouths of babes), Because I said so. (Parenting)
29 Comments Add your own
1. stacy | December 2nd, 2008 at 8:17 pm
Bless her heart.
Bless your heart.
Thank you for sharing this time of your life with us.
I thought of you during the holiday, your courage is helping others in ways you’ll never know.
Minneapolis
2. Fern | December 2nd, 2008 at 8:21 pm
Girl has her priorities straight. My daughter is the same. These are fine women we are creating, for our potential grandchildren.
I am LOVING these conversations. This stuff is gold!
3. Mary Gilmour | December 2nd, 2008 at 8:40 pm
Laughing with you. Kids are amazingly accurate at self preservation.
Promise to wear a hat!
4. Mary | December 2nd, 2008 at 8:51 pm
LOL!!!
5. nono | December 2nd, 2008 at 9:25 pm
Bahahahahaha! Classic. Simply classic. I can just hear her now…”yeah, that’s my mom, she’s bald from a Polar Bear Disease.”
You know Jenn, all this discussion and gentle humor between you and your girls about your illness might give you a great basis for a children’s book. It could help explain and answer questions on a simpler level about Polar Bear Disease for other kids that are dealing with it in their own homes. Few parents that are suffering through this like you are, are able to have conversations like this with anyone, let alone their children. And fewer still, have your talent with writing and words.
It’s a thought.
It may not be the Louvre, but it could be Random House….
6. Meghan | December 2nd, 2008 at 9:55 pm
Thank you so much for trusting us with this. All of it. You are a gem. So are your daughters.
You have a great face- hair or no hair!
OOh! My code is “HOME”.
7. pamela from the dayton time | December 2nd, 2008 at 10:17 pm
That’s the stuff that keeps us mamas going. My mother actually started to color her hair when my brother was in the second grade and got off the bus crying one day. He was embarrassed that the other kids thought she was his grandma.
8. Lisa Bane | December 2nd, 2008 at 11:00 pm
Okay, I wasn’t going to comment, but my Security Code made me.
Maha- A moment when being a mother just makes sense.
9. patois | December 2nd, 2008 at 11:55 pm
Not without a good hat, at the very least.
10. amysue | December 3rd, 2008 at 12:00 am
Sophie rocks. Just like her mama. God, that’s hilarious.
And thank you for the term “mother-smugly.” I feel as though that is my constant state.
11. elisa | December 3rd, 2008 at 3:21 am
Hi-newbie here.
Your daughter sounds adorable and I hope that my toddler understands later one why he doesn’t get everything he wants, either. And then gives me a hair massage. Or Haiiiiiiiirrr Maaaasssaaaaaage. Either one.
And much love and strength to you from a stranger in Cali.
12. Jessica | December 3rd, 2008 at 4:58 am
I love how you are with your girls and how they are with you - it’s fun and funny and inspirational. Thanks for sharing!
13. Vikki | December 3rd, 2008 at 9:43 am
Oh how they keep us humble, huh?
14. Lisa Milton | December 3rd, 2008 at 12:09 pm
Oh, they have the priorities…
I love the way you are keeping them in the loop. It must be very difficult, but they are going to grow up to be fine, thoughtful women. And they will be less afraid, not being forced to sift through secrets.
Brava.
15. Velma | December 3rd, 2008 at 12:47 pm
The “Polar Bear” disease sounds very much like my daughter’s reaction to discussing the possibility that her brother had Asperger’s Syndrome - “ASS BURGER?!?!?”
16. Fairly Odd Mother | December 3rd, 2008 at 6:49 pm
Awesome. We parents have such power to embarrass. I love it.
17. pogonip | December 3rd, 2008 at 8:53 pm
LOL! Two very wonderful and comforting conversations with your girls. I always think lies are way scarier for kids than the truth. Good job, Mama Polar Bear.
18. Tara-Lynn | December 3rd, 2008 at 9:48 pm
Love her reaction. Hooray for you for being honest with your girls, yet bringing it to a level they can understand. Cheering for better days for you.
19. suzy | December 3rd, 2008 at 9:55 pm
AHHHHHH HAAAAAAAA haaaaaaaaaaaa!!! I utterly love that Sophie doesn’t cut you any slack. It’s sweet and lovely and so very true to life. I’m glad we all have people that DO cut us slack, but there is something completely priceless about being loved, but not given a break.
I’m sure it can drive you nuts some time, I know it does me, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
20. slouching mom | December 3rd, 2008 at 10:21 pm
still LOL at ass burger.
i love that kid — she’s so…practical.
21. Karen | December 4th, 2008 at 12:58 am
Good for you!
LOL at “ass burger” and “polar bear disease”. Made my day!
22. Anne | December 4th, 2008 at 11:56 am
Hi Jenn
Just wanted to let you know I had my baby, Matteo, on November 9. Induced, medical and quite traumatic in restrospect. He is beautiful, but I am struggling under depression, anxiety and major difficulty accepting that I am a mother now. Not fun but everyone assures me the first weeks are the worst, and things will get better. Not sure when I will be blogging again as I haven’t had much sleep since Oct 27 (was in hospital for 2 weeks as a precaution before the birth) and that is taking priority. I wanted to send love. Bless you, so much. Thinking of you.
23. astarte | December 4th, 2008 at 2:41 pm
NO! Oh, that’s funny! What a little turnip!
24. Lorrian | December 4th, 2008 at 3:14 pm
Jenn, your openness with your daughters is a huge blessing. Thanks for continuing to share with us. I think of you often and am sending good vibes (I am a CA girl after all).
25. kat | December 4th, 2008 at 10:21 pm
hahahahahahaha! classic.
26. Spot the Wonder Dog | December 5th, 2008 at 8:15 am
You should tell her you would look just like Brittany Spears.
…or Ghandi.
27. ~annie | December 5th, 2008 at 2:31 pm
I’m going to print out and post that 3rd paragraph on our bathroom mirror so my girl will be sure to see it. Hang in there and keep up the good work!
28. Lalla Lydia | December 6th, 2008 at 9:39 pm
Right on.
29. Juls | December 9th, 2008 at 5:48 pm
The “hair massage” is my weakness too. My son likes to give me “ponys” which is basically pulling all of hair into his hands like a ponytail and then switching hands until he has reached the agreed upon number.
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