Take A Right At the End of the Dirt Road

Parenting doesn't come with an instruction manual.  I mean, it could, you could read countless blogs (like this one), or you could be guided by whichever big book lights your path. But. The reality is there's no clear cut way to get from birth to not fucking up your kid.  It's going to happen.  Let's all deal with it.  The way I see it, our job is to raise kind, aware, strong, confident, and amazing people. If they happen to change the world, great.  I'll know it's a job well done if our daughter can brighten her little corner of the world.  

We can all agree, as parents, sometimes we unequivocally know that we are nailing this parenting thing.  And as we know from Sir Isaac Newton, there is an equal and opposite reaction for every action, which means, as parents, we also know when we do not have a fucking clue.

It's because of this cluelessness I want to talk about death.  Heavy, I know.  You didn't stumble upon a site called "The MotherSip" to get hit with a sobering reality that we all face.  I LOVE four-letter words, so why does this five-letter word scare me so much?  Probably the pandemic, likely all the doom scrolling I do, or it could just be the finality of it all.

Much like you, and the rest of the world, I feel like we keep getting punched in the gut.  It has not been a calendar year, and we have said goodbye to my father-in-law, a cat named Hugo Boss, and our dog Roxie. How do you explain death to a toddler?  Do you explain it to them at all?  I suppose each kid is different. Each will process at their own pace and at their own time. I am far from a therapist, so this is only our experience. If you are reading this and need mental healthcare, please seek it out. And if you need help to find it, reach out to us, we will help you.

We were transparent with our toddler (almost 3) about Heaven. The way we describe it, hell, it makes me not so scared of death.  There's plenty of beer, dogs, cats, and all the people we love.  Plus, EPIC dance parties. Because, aside from the beer, that's what she cares about, the beer is more for us.  Is it the right thing? I don't know.  I do know that at her playdate shortly after my wife and I drove our dog to the vet for the last time, our sweet toddler told her friends, "My moms drove our dog to Heaven".  

I wish Heaven were a short car ride away, and we could go back-and-forth as we choose.  But, I also adore seeing what this entire process looks like through the eyes of a toddler. It makes it far less scary.  Death shouldn't be terrifying; we should look at it with awe, wonder, and a symbol of the beauty of life. After all, there are far more scary five-letter words in the world.  Like "mouse." Fuck. That. Shit.

Love, Alana