Dora Debunked

Today I woke up with a mission. I was going to weed my garden. The poor corn and squash plants were being choked out. That was all. Just pulling up the carpet of green that covered the ground meant for producing veggie plants. With only one item on my to-do list, I still had the problem of entertainment of a 5 year-old and 2 year-old with the goal of keeping the house standing while I weeded.

Enter Dora. Thank you Amazon Prime! I turned it on, handed out otter pops and left the door open while I went outside. It lasted about half an episode. Maybe even less. Out of the house came bounding an energetic 5 year old. Without any fanfare or lead-in she said "Mom, what if Swiper just wants a turn? What if they just gave him a turn? Then maybe he would stop trying to take all their stuff. If I was Dora, I would give him a turn and tell him to give my stuff back to me after his turn was over and not throw it away. He probably throws it because he wants a turn and isn't getting it."

Mind.Is.Blown. Here is bullying, wrapped in pretty colors and tied with a bow of fun music and chants. She is always smiling. Has an answer to every problem. A special backpack that is kind of like Mary Poppins carpet bag, and talking map. A best friend. (Who happens to be a monkey.) Freedom to roam a rather large area (as indicated by the numerous areas the talking map covers). All this, yet fear of loss keeps a continual cycle of run-ins with Swiper. Fear. Because of fear, an offer isn't extended to Swiper. A chance to change isn't made. Fear of loss, of change, prevents an outsider from being part of the group. And he acts out. All this handed out in an educational cartoon. And yet, it can't brainwash my kid. Take that world.

Hang in there Swiper. One day you'll be given a chance. If not by Dora, then maybe by my 5 year-old, by other children. By pure hearts that hold no hate or fear, but faith, hope and charity.

Lead on young ones, lead on.

Healing and a Headstone

Picking out Gracie's headstone design was hard. I wanted it to be perfect. After three different proofs came back and none of them was quite like I envisioned it, I sent in some art that I had done.

I asked if there was any way to put something like it on to the design. I had drawn these one day, as I sat crying. As I looked at the tears that had dripped off my face onto the table, the thought came to me "Don't you know I miss you too, Mommy?"

In a mix up of communication, as we worked over email on the design, the cemetery social worker person made a comment of having Christ bringing back the baby to the mother. It stopped me. I hadn't thought about it like that.

They placed her headstone today. When we buried Gracie, it took all my will power not to start digging at the dirt. My heart screamed silently not to let them finish. For many weeks after, that desire was still there. My grief was fresh and raw. Today, as the workers dug to put in the headstone, I was peaceful and calm. At one point, the thought did cross my mind that just a little more and they could uncover her. But it wasn't a desperate yearning. I smiled to myself and breathed deep, letting it go. We had a wonderful rainstorm today which I thought was so fitting. Laying Gracie to rest is completely done. While the pain of not having her here still comes, today I felt clean and healed to an extent.

When I drew it, it was a tearful goodbye, but as it was placed today, it is a gentle reminder of hope to me. An image of comfort, when we will be together again.