Lonely and Sad

Now before you are start calling me to check on me, let me just assure you right now that the title of this post has nothing to do with my emotional well-being.  Granted, there are days here that are lonely, however that is (maybe) a subject for another day.  This post is all about Naomi.....

My friend wrote this post on her blog a few months ago.  As I read it, several thoughts came to mind.  These included, and were not limited to: "Wow, I really can't imagine having a daughter that sensitive and, well, so dramatic -  at least not for a few years, anyway," and, "If cute kittens make her cry, what's she going to do when she finds out about things like ethnic cleansing and global warming?"  and finally, "Heaven help her mom when she hits puberty!"  My friends, never say never.  And never assume that you are immune from ANYTHING!! 

The Monday after Thanksgiving we went and bought a Christmas tree for family home evening.  We were going to decorate it that night, but by the time we had picked the tree, loaded it into the car, driven home, dragged the tree up the stairs and into our apartment and securely installed it in its tree stand, I was ready for the kids to go to bed.  I had the mistaken impression that if we waited until another night to decorate the tree (hopefully starting earlier in the evening) we'd have happier and more cooperative children.  HA!

Thursday night we started decorating.  I must insert here that I love decorating the Christmas tree.  I love having a real tree.  I love the smell of the pine sap.  I love pulling out each decoration and remembering who gave it to us, or who made it.  So, I was really excited to get started. 

We had a grand start.  The kids were happy.  They were getting along well and were actually able to hang some ornaments without help.  We had only dropped (and broken!) one ornament.  Then Ben made the fateful statement that `would (unbeknownst to us) change the course of the evening from one of music, smiles and laughter to one of uncontrollable sobbing, moaning, and dismay.  While helping Naomi hang an ornament on a branch that was out of her reach, she asked him why they had to hang the ornament on that particular branch.  He responded that the branch was lonely and sad, and we wouldn't want it to stay that way would we?  Seeming to accept that logic, they hung the ornament and moved on.  Or seemed to.  Just moments later Naomi burst into tears.  We're not talking a little sniffle here.  Not even a steady cry.  This was uncontrolled sobbing.  I (being the sensitive mother I am) rushed to her side and asked what was the matter.

"It's.....so...sobsobsobsob.....lonely....and......sobsobsob.......sa-a-a-a-a-a-d-d-d-d....."

"Naomi, are you lonely?  We're all right here...do you need some help putting on the ornament?"

"Noooooooo.....the.....sobsobsob.....bra-a-a-a-a-a-anch.....lonely....sa-a-a-d...."

Good grief.

Are you kidding me?

Seeing my daughter in such distress, I did what any sensitive mother would do.  I ran and grabbed the camera.  And here's the evidence of our joyous evening:

                   

The sobbing lasted a full hour.  She cried while we finished decorating the tree.  (Fortunately we were almost done!) She cried while she used the potty.  She cried while she got her jammies on.  She cried while Ben brushed her teeth.  There was no stopping it.  I'm doomed.  So, when you're all in the throws of pre-pubescent drama and teen angst, give me a call.  We'll be there too.