I probably shouldn’t write about serious stuff because my blog name suggests you’re supposed to be able to have a laugh on me.
I’ve never been very good at being who I’m supposed to be.
Seriously, I’m considering changing my blog name to Have A Serious Moment On Me.
Speaking of serious, my four-year-old won’t stop talking about when he dies. It’s been going on since we got back from overseas and it’s ridiculously unnerving.
We’re tight my youngest and I, we talk about heading to ‘pick up the kids’ from school and he’s my bestie when he’s not at kindy.
I wipe his bum, he tells me it looks like I have a baby in my tummy when we swim in our knickers, and we eat hazelnut chocolate hidden in the fridge that no-one else knows about.
Our song is I Will Wait For You by Mumford and Sons, and when it came on the radio yesterday he asked me if I would wait for him to come alive when he died. Of course I said ‘yes’.
Then staring at me intently with his cherub face and big green eyes he said: ‘when you die I will wait for you to wake up’. Gulp.
Every day the subject of death or dying seems to crop up and it’s a bit much for this sensitive soul. I can’t even allow a grain of such a thought enter my brain, it’s too sad.
I’m sure kids talk about it all the time but it’s the first time it’s been such a hot topic of discussion in my household and my son is such an old and wise soul that when he says such a thing it rattles me.
Just the other day he was swimming in our pool and he told me he loved the pool so much that he wanted to sleep in it. I literally shuddered. I’m sure it’s his near-drowning experience that made me flinch at this statement.
Then I remembered the day he went missing for 10 minutes at our local shops and the few harrowing seconds I thought I’d never see him away. I’m tearing up just remembering.
I’m sure it’s just a phase but there should be some sort of kid rule book that makes talking about death and dying a once or twice a year thing. Not an everyday occurrence.
My brain tells me that he’s probably just heard or seen something from his older siblings as we haven’t had to broach the subject in our family recently, touch wood.
But my heart, that totally kicks my brain to the curb, says it’s not cool and I want it to stop!