Squeaker and the Daddy person spent yesterday visiting our Mothers and in the process trekking around the state. Given some of her struggles recently the trip was a good one for her. These can pretty well be summed up by a conversation we had last week. Not the one about the paleontologist and soldier (but I will repeat that one later for those of you who haven't heard it).
Squeaker and I were riding in the car and without any preamble she ask "Will you get married again Daddy?" I answered successfully, with a question, "Would you like me to get married?" Her answer, and the crux of what has been bothering her much the few months was "Yes, that way I will have someone I can call Mommy." Our striking out on our own has disrupted her balance. Even though she's spent almost as much time with Brite as she did before the move thrown this absence into focus (not that I think it is every that far from her mind). As perceptive as she is, as organized as she is, and despite having a classmate with two Moms, she is having more trouble with the absence than she's had in a long time. Squeaker seems sure, with a child's perfect logic, that being able to call someone Mommy will fix the problem.
I think we are coming through it though. We had a wonderful afternoon at the Garden yesterday. We, which is to say she, picked out some flowers to last the summer. It was a colorful bouquet with purple, orange, teal, and at least two shades of pink. I claim credit only for the purple roses and the credit card. Squeaker still being four, one of the pink roses came home with us, too (technical difficulties - having started the video recorder in time to get seven minutes of pocket time mean that we will be all text this week). After we arranged the flowers, we spent a long time wandering the garden. She asked often about people and with the exception of an AAF Sargent, I was unable to provide her with much information.
On that note, Friday I was putting her in the car when she asked about the suit bag hanging in the back. I responded that it was for a funeral later. I told her that funeral was for a soldier who was killed in Afghanistan. Her response was "That's why I want to be a paleontologist and not a warrior. No one ever died from a little sand in their eyes."
It is hard not to smile at that and hard not to smile for her. Have a good week.
