The Funeral

At some point I think I need some kind of symbolic funeral ceremony. Some kind of closing chapter on something I like to call my phantom child. Before you have children you create this ideal of what having children is going to be like, what each child is going to be like, what you your family is going to be like. Of course, like many of you know that all changes once you actually give birth. What people don't realize is that is really all comes crashing down when you realize you have a spirited child. You experience this type of grief. You find yourself grieving your own ideal of parenthood, your anticipations of raising your child, and this phantom child you created in your head over the years. All of it has to go out the window before you can take on the new challenge that is your REAL life and blood child.

It's like suddenly you realize your little firecracker octagon (notice I did not say square or circle or triangle..no because those are still too simple of shapes and the Lord knows that spirited children are far from SIMPLE) does not fit into this word of squares, circles, and triangles. Take for example my trip to Monkey Buziness this week with a fabulous mommy friend of mine and her daughter (Tristan's girlfriend.) As a parent of a spirited child you can not help but to notice all these toddlers that are quite content to hang out in the crawler section and play with the toys there (where his girlfriend had to stay.) Okay, fine he does not want to hang out with the "babies." So we head out into the big kid play area. He does great for awhile until he sees an open door. He heads straight for the open door and then proceeds to check out everything that is NOT A TOY. He insisted on exploring everything else. I mean we ended up in the empty birthday party room...no toys! I pick him up and take him back into the play zone, but does he want to be in the play zone, no of course not. He heads straight back for the door and throws a fit when I wont let him out, all while all these all toddlers are so happy just going down the same slide 50 million times. So we head back into the baby section so I can visit with my mommy friend, guess who not only throws a fit because he did not want to be in there with all these fabulous toys but he was so determined that he also learned to open the dang door and escape! I thought this area was supposed to be for babies up to 2. It can not even contain my 16 month old!

So of course I go home and feel defeated. And of course I am sitting here thinking why can't my toddler be happy and content like all the other toddlers in a fabulous open space with tons of toys and things to climb. I mean that is what I had imagined with my phantom child. But my phantom child is dead, and what I have is my real live breathing bleeding amazing toddler Tristan who apparently is just always going to be outside the box somehow (figuratively and literally, in case you haven't been to Monkey Business all the play area is is an enclosed box).

Services will be held someday when I can afford the funeral. Until then R.I.P Phantom Child K. You shall be missed.