We Are So Ready For 2012

I've really had enough of this year.

Sorry I haven't been around for the last two weeks.  Our poor little computer randomly stopped recognizing some of the drives, and while thankfully it was all covered by the warranty, it took a few days for the parts to come in.  Then, WeeBee's Nonna died.

Nonna was his name for his great-grandma, and it was the first name he learned to say aside from Mummum and Dadda.  She was 92 years old, still sharp as anything, and always had a bag of cookies for WeeBee.  She had even gotten him a coloring book for Christmas before she died, and kept it hidden from him under a couch cushion incase he came over before then.

I really wasn't sure how WeeBee would handle the whole situation.  In his world death refers to computer batteries and cell phones that need to be recharged - neither of which is exactly permanent.  I tried to explain to him that Nonna was very sick all of a sudden, and she would go live with Baby Jesus so He could take care of her.  I wasn't sure how that would go over either, since the last time we went to visit Baby Jesus in church, he kicked pews and bounced around to the point that I had to drag him back to the car, screaming "Noooo, Baby Jesus!  I want to talk to Baby Jesus!" the whole time.  Let me tell you, it is absolutely impossible to feel good about yourself as a parent after that.

Anyway, when I told him about Nonna, he changed the subject.  Repeatedly.  At first I thought he was just being a typical two year old with the attention span of a gnat, but then I started to get the impression he was changing the subject because he didn't like what he was hearing.  When we got to Nonna's house, he didn't go looking for her, as he always had in the past.  He didn't mention her at all.  Somewhere in that little brain of his, he had accepted that she didn't live there anymore.  That was a bit of a relief, but I was then worried that on the day of the funeral he would get to Baby Jesus' house and throw a fit because he expected Nonna to be there.  Thankfully he amused himself by taking the hymnals out of their plastic protective covers, and was the most well behaved he's ever been in church.  He hasn't forgotten her, though - whenever he sees a picture of her, he says, "Mommy, that's Nonna!" right away.  So I guess that's really all we could ask for - that if Nonna had to go, at least he was old enough to remember her, and he's ok with  Baby Jesus taking care of her.

Unfortunately, in the week since the funeral, WeeBee has gotten a stomach virus and all four of us here have gotten terrible colds.  I have yet to decide whether it's worse for all of us to feel like we've been run over by trucks at the same time, but get it over with, or for it to drag on for a month while we get sick one after another.

And now I must go - WeeBee is slithering around on the ground underneath the Christmas tree rather like the Grinch who stole Christmas, and I'd better go figure out what he's after before the whole thing comes down.