Thursday, December 1, 2011

The Dream

Little Meems really wants a baby sister.  You know that.

I told her the only way she’s going to get one is if someone leaves one on our doorstep.  I thought the sheer absurdity of something like that actually happening would be enough to get her to drop her campaign for another baby.  I thought there was no clearer, yet gentler, way to illustrate “NO.”

Not long ago, she began telling me about these "dreams" she was having.  “The doorbell rings, and we go to answer it, and there’s a baby!”  Said without a shred of irony.  Bless her heart, my gentle “no” was apparently lost on her.  I left the door open, gave her the tiniest glimmer of hope.  I guess in her 8-year-old mind, anything’s possible.  And I love that about her.  But this is a reminder that subtlety is lost on the kid.

I laughed with her at the “silly dream” (her words, not mine).  But she kept having them, and then she started "dreaming" that someone left a specific baby on our doorstep – one that we saw at the mall not long ago.  She hasn’t been able to get her mind off that little baby, even going so far to occasionally say “wasn’t that baby cute?” out of nowhere and for no reason at all.  Her brothers always look at me like “what the heck?” but of course I know exactly what she’s talking about.  I finally (again gently) explained to her that 1) no one leaves babies on doorsteps, and 2) you can’t order a specific baby who clearly already has a loving mother and family just because you really want a sister and you think she’s cute.  This time I was sure to be perfectly clear.

She finally let her dream go.  Although a weekend spent with a baby cousin has once again made her wistful for what she can’t have.  “I sure wish we could get another baby,” she sighed the other day.  Followed by a larger, deeper sigh for emphasis.  

Thankfully, she’s moving on…to a puppy.  Having just lost our dog, she’s transferred her dreams of a baby to dreams of a surprise puppy awaiting her and her brothers when they get home from school.  “I just want to pick something up,” she says.  Meaning, if she can’t hold and love a baby, a dog will suffice. 

To be honest, I wish I could grant her her one true wish, but it’s just not in the cards.  I have assured her that Santa's a dead end on that one too. 


That noise you heard is likely the sound of the door (hopefully) closing on that matter once and for all.    

Now about the dog...

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