Lost in the Shuffle

As I was tucking Nora into bed last night, she began her nightly conversation with me in a happy, upbeat mood.  Since Brennan was sleeping over at a friend's house (the two girls share a room), Brady had a friend sleeping over, and AJ was already in bed, Nora and I had a rare opportunity to talk - uninterrupted. 

And talk she did. 

We started off light and easy-breezy...discussing the events of the day (pool and outdoor concert with picnic dinner) and how much fun we had!  Somehow, we veered into planning her 5th birthday party (she just turned 4 in April).  She listed off all of the people who she would like to invite - neighbor friends, dance friends, school friends, siblings of friends, etc. (she is a soft-hearted soul who doesn't like to hurt anyone's feelings, so everyone in a 5 mile radius should be receiving an invitation). 

Then she reminded me that we need to make a butterfly cake for her 5th birthday.  Apparently, I had, at some point months ago, agreed to make her one for her 4th birthday and forgot.  She mentioned this to my Mom a few weeks ago, and was apparently upset by it.  I had no idea.  I thought we were in agreement about the cupcakes for everyone to decorate (her idea) and a candle for everyone to blow out (which was her idea too - again, how sweet is she?).  My Mom even offered to make Nora a butterfly cake.  In her infinite widsom though, Nora replied, "No Grammy, it wouldn't be my real birthday." 

Apparently, we were not in agreement about the whole cupcake thing.  As for the candle for each kid thing, well, that all went fine, except for Nora's hair catching on fire while she was waiting for me to light everyone else's candles...but that's another story.

So there I am, already in the hot seat, and suddenly the conversation takes a turn for the worse.  As we are talking about her school friends, and when can she see them again (pre-school has been over for two weeks now), she starts reminiscing about her year of preschool.  Before I know it, her voice starts to crack and her bottom lip is trembling as she tells me about all of the mommies (or daddies or big brothers and sisters) who came in to read a book to her class.  As she is rattling off the names of all of the kids who have (dutiful, involved) parents, huge, crocodile tears starrt spilling from her big blue eyes, and then she says, "but Mommy, YOU never came into my class and read a book..".sniff, sniff...

Dagger.  Right.  To.  The.  Heart. 

..."and Ava's Mommy AND Daddy came in and read TWO books...and Avery's big brother and big sister and Mommy came in...and nobody from my family ever came in..." 

At this point, Mark hears her sobbing and comes in, thinking something is terribly wrong.  She repeats her lament, in between sobs, and I may be mistaken, but I think I heard Mark's heart fall to the floor. 

Grasping at straws, I apologize profusely and tell her that I (we) love her dearly, and didn't mean to hurt her feelings...I just didn't know about the whole book reading thing.  She replied that "Mommies are just supposed to KNOW these things." 

Now, I am the one about ready to cry.

Trying to make myself feel better, I asked her if there were any other kids whose mommies didn't come in and read.  There was only one, who happens to be a friend of mine, and also happens to have four children.  That was about a nanosecond's worth of comfort. 

Apologizing again, and offering to make sure that we ALL come in to read to her class next year, she settles down with that and the prospect of an extra long snuggle.

As I snuggled in next to her, I promised myself not to let little Nora get lost in the shuffle again.  The details do matter.  Especially to a four year old.