Wyatt has been tip toeing around death. Questions, I mean. It started a few days ago with a few general questions here and there. No biggie. Excepting for the fact that Im VERY uncomfortable with death as well as talks involving heaven etc etc. Its unfamiliar ground, if you will.
Tonight before bed we had this conversation :
Wyatt: "Do parents die before kids?"
Me: (ok, so my mind is racing, do I say yes? or do I say sometimes?) "Parents dont usually die until they are very very old. Then they go to heaven to be with God."
Wyatt: "But you said you stopped growing"
Me: (I told him yesterday that Im all done growing and I wont get any taller) "Yes, Im done getting taller, but everyday I get a little older. Everyone does. Everyday people get older."
Wyatt: "Am I going to die? I dont want to die!!"
Me: (Careful mom) "Not until you are very very very old"
Wyatt: "Are you going to die?"
Me: (DANGER, DANGER!) "Not until you are a very old man with a wife and kids of your own."
Wyatt: "Whens my birthday?"
Me: (OH THANK GOD! We have moved on from this conversation)
"In a little under a year"
Wyatt: "THATS WHEN IM GONNA DIE?!"
Me: (SHIT!) "No! Good gravy Wyatt!"
Wyatt: "I dont want you to send me away to heaven!"
Me: (Well played mom, well played) "Where do you want to go!?"
Wyatt: "I just want to stay in the house!"
Me: (Kind of wish the floor would just swallow me) God Wyatt! *kiss, kiss* You are not going to die, Im not going to die, we are all going to get old and be happy, go to sleep, dream of a playground or a swingset or a freakin' swimming pool!"
I swear next time Im lying. "We are going to live forever." I think I made it worse.
Yikes. Is all I can say. I seriously would rather have a conversations about penises and vagina's, and proper condom usage than have another discussion about death.
Tonight before bed we had this conversation :
Wyatt: "Do parents die before kids?"
Me: (ok, so my mind is racing, do I say yes? or do I say sometimes?) "Parents dont usually die until they are very very old. Then they go to heaven to be with God."
Wyatt: "But you said you stopped growing"
Me: (I told him yesterday that Im all done growing and I wont get any taller) "Yes, Im done getting taller, but everyday I get a little older. Everyone does. Everyday people get older."
Wyatt: "Am I going to die? I dont want to die!!"
Me: (Careful mom) "Not until you are very very very old"
Wyatt: "Are you going to die?"
Me: (DANGER, DANGER!) "Not until you are a very old man with a wife and kids of your own."
Wyatt: "Whens my birthday?"
Me: (OH THANK GOD! We have moved on from this conversation)
"In a little under a year"
Wyatt: "THATS WHEN IM GONNA DIE?!"
Me: (SHIT!) "No! Good gravy Wyatt!"
Wyatt: "I dont want you to send me away to heaven!"
Me: (Well played mom, well played) "Where do you want to go!?"
Wyatt: "I just want to stay in the house!"
Me: (Kind of wish the floor would just swallow me) God Wyatt! *kiss, kiss* You are not going to die, Im not going to die, we are all going to get old and be happy, go to sleep, dream of a playground or a swingset or a freakin' swimming pool!"
I swear next time Im lying. "We are going to live forever." I think I made it worse.
Yikes. Is all I can say. I seriously would rather have a conversations about penises and vagina's, and proper condom usage than have another discussion about death.
