Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Always, always, ALWAYS

I wanted to write something for Mom for Mother's Day. Something funny. But I want to write about this first.

One of my friends sent us a surprise package- wooly treats for Mom and Me from Maryland Sheep & Wool, and a stuffed "tangaroo" for Genevieve- complete with a joey in her pouch. (Sadly, along with other amazing developmental and verbal leaps, Genevieve no longer says "tangaroo".)

"AND a box!"
Genevieve was *thrilled*- she's fascinated by the ideas of kangaroos. She knows they're mammals, thinks hopping like a kangaroo is the bee's knees, and thinks it is AMAZING that they have their babies in a pouch.


It's a fantastic toy, deliciously soft, good weight, with a friendly face. The joey comes out of the pouch, so (against my better judgement) at Genevieve's request, I cut the tags and all the plastic connectors.

"Soft ears!"

Thus began JoeyWatch 2014- where every adult in the house was informed of their part in making sure that (a) the joey didn't get lost and (b) the dogs didn't get a hold of this particularly delicious morsel.

"The same!"
... Which lasted exactly four days before disaster struck. We were putting toys away before bed last night (as usual), and Genevieve noticed that the joey wasn't with Mama Kangaroo.
"Where baby kangaroo?" she asked me.
"Well," I said, regurgitating one of my mother's aphorisms, "I'm sure he'll turn up while we're picking up the toys."
We cleaned and cleaned. No joey. We cleaned the living room. No joey. We cleaned her bedroom. No joey. We cleaned the Big Bedroom. No joey. 

This caused some major bedtime issues, and led to a conversation I wish I had never had to have.
"Baby kangaroo is missing," Genevieve said.
"I'm sure he'll turn up," I said, "I'll look for him some more, later."
"Mama kangaroo doesn't love her baby anymore?" Genevieve asked, very upset.
And then I had a moment, where - simultaneously - my heart broke, and I was OUTRAGED that she had overheard from someone that mamas may stop loving their babies someday.
"Never, never, never," I said, snuggling her a little tighter, "Mamas always, ALWAYS love their babies. I'm sure she's worried about where her baby is and misses him very much. If you were missing, I would never stop looking for you until I found you."

"You help find him?" she asked.
"I will find him," I promised.   
After she went to sleep, I checked the usual places, and sure enough, the joey had fallen between the slats and under the (decorative and unused but for play) toddler bed, and the joey was less than 18 inches from his mother the whole time. I breathed a deep sigh of relief as I tucked him back in his mother's pouch and, mission accomplished, got myself ready for bed.

This morning, when Genevieve woke up (and informed SuperAndrew and me that it was time to "Get movin'! I go get my clothes.") I told her to check Mama Kangaroo.

Happy feet padded down and back our hallway.

"She SO HAPPY to have her baby!" she told me, overjoyed at the reunion, her world back in order.

This is - obviously - not a tale of heroics, but rather, one of love. I don't care if she doesn't remember the specifics, as long she she remembers that I always, always, ALWAYS love her. Because that's what mamas do.


  1. You are such a great mom, Jasmin! She is lucky to have you!

  2. Or, if you're anything like me, you'll call it tangaroo for the rest of your life. :-}

  3. My son used to call eyeglasses "gagas." Then one day he learned to say glasses, and the gagas were gone forever ... except that I still haven't forgotten them! So charming. And since you named a podcast episode Tangaroo and talk about Tangaroo sweaters, i'm guessing this is one that will live on forever, both for you and for your listeners!

  4. My Cori called oatmeal "ointmeal" until very recently, she's almost five. My husband and I still call it ointmeal. Now she rolls her eyes.

    We have a ritual in our house, when we Cori gets on my last nerve, and she knows I'm frustrated, she'll ask me "Mommy, do you still love me even when you're mad, or sad, or frustrated?". It breaks my heart. My answer is "Always, baby. I love you always always."

  5. Last week I had my four year old grandson over to help me finish planting my 'container' garden. I want to try some bush beans. I'm not sure what Olli heard me call them as he poked each bean into the soil, but they will forever be "push beets" now in our home! I'm so relieved Joey is now back with his mama!!

  6. What a great story. Andrew may be SuperAndrew but you are also SuperMom, magically reuniting mother and baby while Genevieve is asleep. :)

  7. Jasmin, this is such a heartwarming, loving story.

  8. My DS said to me the other day - after getting in trouble for being sassy - you don't love me anymore. Talk about stabbing you in the heart! I told him that even when we're upset with each other we always love each other.

  9. It sounds like you guys need the Eric Carle book, "Does a Kangaroo Have a Mother, Too?" It ends will reiterating how all animal mothers love their babies.

  10. Ok ... Sitting here with tears in my eyes cause I totally get it.

  11. I just found you through your podcast. I am loving listening to you and your mom. And so I of course started stalking you on instagram and ravelry. And here I am reading your blog. Wonderful! Glad to have found you.


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