Last night at dinner, while John and I talked about the ups and downs of transitioning to normal life now that he’s back at work:
Troy: “Mommy, talk to me!”
Mommy: “You want to talk, too, Troy?”
T: “Yep.”
M: “Well, let’s see… Troy, do you remember when Daddy was in Iraq?”
T: (pause) “Yes. I miss him. I was sad. I was crying. I LOVE him!!”
Troy’s memory at two and a half never ceases to amaze us. He remembers very specific events, people and places that happened up to a year ago. Things that we haven’t even talked about to remind him.
For instance, we were eating peas last week when he suddenly started trying to toss them into his mouth. We both raised our eyebrows at him, at which point he reminded us, “I be like Grandpa.”
Oh, yeah. I forgot Grandpa did that.
But lately that memory combined with his two-year-old limited grasp on reality has been causing him some problems.
Every morning he wakes up, walks to the top of the stairs and asks, “Aww, but where’s my daddy?”
Gee, thanks, kiddo. Glad to see you too.
Once he’s convinced that Mommy’s just going to have to do (no lights and fireworks there!) , he makes his way downstairs and we snuggle on the couch for a while.
And then–never failing–he asks it.
“Daddy in Iraq? He go on the bus again?”
I explain to him every. single. morning. that Daddy’s just at work and he’ll be home after naps and before dinner. But this time the ol’ memory’s just not doing it for him. He’s certain Daddy “got back on the bus” like the day he left–Troy’s most vivid memory of the deployment
And then after naptime?
Rinse. Repeat.
So we decided it was time to visit where Daddy works and see for ourselves.
Armed with a nice autumn picture we’d made the day before, we headed over to John’s building on base after a commissary run. Troy walked up the stairs and followed his daddy into his office. We ate lunch there, hung Troy’s picture, sat in Daddy’s chair, saw everything he does during the day, and even peppered the desk and locker with post-it notes while Daddy was in a meeting. Troy played with their matching “covers” (hats) and tried to get Merritt to wear one without taking it off. Then it was time to go and we walked back out to the car.
See, Troy? This is where Daddy come to work. He’s not going back to Iraq, baby.”
“Yeah! He goes to work here! He not get on the bus anymore!”
And since that day, he hasn’t worried once that Daddy was “back on the bus.” No more worried and fears. No more after naptime tears about Iraq. My hearts get torn up one less time each day.
Now, the whole “Aw, but I wanna snuggle with Daddy” thing–THAT’S still going strong.
(To which I say, sorry charlie, you have to wait till about 5:30 tonight for the lights and fireworks to begin. I guess Mommy just doesn’t quite have what it takes. See if I make YOUR breakfast today.
Joking, joking. I still make him breakfast even when feeling slighted by my two year old. Ahem.)
But that’s okay. When it comes to Daddy, we have a lot of lost time to make up for.
It really is amazing how little people understand life (from their point of view). That was very wise to take him to see John’s work.
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okay, you’ve done it again.. it’s not even 8:00 and I think I might cry my eyes out. :-D
I love it!
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As a parent, I too am awed at what they remember and can grasp at such a young age. My daughter was 16 months old when my son was born. We hadn’t really talked with her about Mommy having a baby because we didn’t think she would understand. When my Mom brought her to the hospital, the first thing she said was, “my baby” and touched him ever so gently on the head. That memory still moves me greatly.
I think of you all often, and so glad that John made it safely back to his family.
Take care.
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That is so sweet! And I don’t know what it is about the whole Daddy time but my kids love that too! They would much rather flock to him than me any day!
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Those little kiddos memories are better than we usually give them credit for. At least now he has a new memory and it’s a happy one.
I think they ask for daddy, because for us, daddy is the play time, rough house, run outside person. Me, I’m just the cook, cleaner and the one who made them take a nap person. But I’m okay with that.
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Looks like I’m not the only one who just about cried reading that!
Mine is 19 months. He just loves his daddy and asks for him every morning, and after every nap. He looks all around the house and then puts his hands up and says, Daddy? Bye-bye?” Yep. And, when I tell him daddy’s coming home he runs to the window and waits. It’s pretty cute.
I know that slighted feeling… lol Maybe it’s cause we’re with them all day. They get bored with us, just like they do with their old toys. lol
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Hey,Miss Ash,this is Laurie,but I have switched over to using the name Danielle or Danny.Stop by and see me.What a CUTE story.
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What a wonderful idea (taking the little ones to work to SHOW them where Daddy is working now). So happy that your husband is home again!
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Your son is amazing. That he remembers so vividly what took his daddy away for a while, wow
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Aww … how beautiful!
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Your so cute! I love that you took him to Johns work so he could process that daddy is at work not in the sandy spot. Thats going to make a big difference!!! The fireworks are still there but like you said there is a lot of time to make up for. Love you soooo much!
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That is such a sweet story. Bless his heart! He just couldn’t get that image out of his head of his daddy leaving.
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Thanks for the sweet comment,and I’m sure you will see us again.And we have the WONDERFUL world of blogs so I’m sure we will stay in touch,at least we can see eachother on blogger!
Luv,Danny
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Heartbreaking and fabulous all at once. That’s being a mama for you.
I love how those babies of ours love their daddies… (and I’m relishing the moments right now that make me feel like Hazel’s mama’s girl… because I know that soon enough, she’s gonna be Daddy’s girl through and through).
What a post.
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Such a sweet post about the homecoming transition, Ashleigh.
Oh. And just to letchaknow: Peas are little green balls of mushy poison. ;o)
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That is so precious… You have a lovely Monday, lady!
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this reminds me of the time Martin switched branches of service and they made him go do boot camp and training over again. He was gone for 5 months and when he came back, James loved to play with him and hang out with him but when it came to Martin and I hugging or holding each other James would have none of that. When we talked about it, James let us know in his 2 year old way that he was mad at daddy for leaving and not being home to take care of us. It was odd, but children understand things so differently. God bless their wonderful hearts!!
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So, so sweet–so glad he now ‘gets’ that Daddy is just a little ways down the road at work, not over the ocean!
Blessings!
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i know what you mean about the memory of a two year old…i have a little steel trap here too.
i’m glad he’s home. =)
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