Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Wahoo,

You’ve been having a pretty profound love affair for the better part of your entire life, and it seems that the two of you are in the beginning stages of parting ways. Yes, wahoo, you and Ringo appear to be making steps towards breaking up. It is really sad to watch. Your dad and I are a little heartbroken.

Ok, that was a lie. Your dad is surviving; I am a little heartbroken.

The other night your dad and I had put you to bed, then gone through the nightly shenanigans of putting you to bed about three more times after you came out for one ridiculous reason after the next. The last time you came out you walked out, put Ringo in my lap, told us you didn’t think you loved Ringo anymore and just started whimpering. Your dad and I looked at one another in confusion, listened as you talked about being sad that Ringo didn’t look the same anymore, then told you to go back to bed. Yeah, it wasn’t our most sensitive moment, but it was 10:00 and you should have been asleep a long time ago. After a few minutes we heard you crying in bed. Initially we thought you were faking it, but after another moment or two I decided to go check on you. When I found you, your face was completely soaked from tears. What?!

I snuggled up with you and listened as you talked about how much you love Ringo, but she doesn’t look the same as she used to and you don’t love the way she looks now. When I told you that Ringo would never look the way she used to, you just cried and cried and cried. I was so stunned–I guess I didn’t see this conversation coming, nor did I really predict the emotion that would accompany it. We turned on the light, I sat you in my lap and the two of us looked over Ringo, trying our level best to give a complete accounting of all her battle scars:

* green neck from where you painted yourself green while visiting aunts Tracy and Kat, and cousin Brandon in Oklahoma;
* ears that don’t stand erect anymore because you rub their interiors while you are falling asleep;
* no stuffing in her neck because you sleep with her propped under your neck, the two of your faces side by side;
* scratched eyeballs from where she has likely been dragged along sidewalks;
* rose-colored paint from she participated in your attempts to paint your nails while in the car, also done on our road trip to Oklahoma;
* pink lips from where you gave her a makeover with the makeup beautiful neighbor/friend Tanya gave you.

Yep, she’ll never, ever look quite as perky as she did when we brought her home from Target when you were about one years old. However, every one of these beauty marks is so full of love, a testimony to a steadfast friendship.

You decided that night to put Ringo in the stuffed animal basket, saying that while you still love her, you didn’t want to sleep with her anymore. It was a brave decision and I was proud of you for making it. When I went to check on you before I went to sleep, there Ringo lay, nestled amongst the non-bed worthy stuffed friends. I confess, I kind of wanted to sleep with her myself, but then my non-emotional sensibilities took hold and I left her there.

When I awoke the next morning, imagine my surprise to find you on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket watching wake-up television. And who peeked out from under your neck, her face right next to yours? Good morning, Ringo. So happy to see you.

Yes, I think you are growing up to the point that you may not need Ringo anymore. You continue to impress me, wahoo. I couldn’t be more proud of you. And, for the record, Ringo will never be far away, probably never farther than my closet, should you need her.