Poor Kid

About a week ago, while my mom was still visiting with us, I got into a discussion with Ethan about our family tree.  He was spending time with his Nanna, so he asked me if I had a Nanna.  I told him that I had a Nanna who died a few years ago.  He looked very sad and said with true regret, "Mommy, I'm so sorry.  Are you sad about your Nanna dying?"  I said that I was, but I was thankful to have known her and loved her while she was alive.  I then steered the conversation to other waters since I felt a little in over my head with my very perceptive, but still only three-year-old, son.  As the week went on, Ethan stopped his play several times, looked sadly at me, and said something like "I'm just so sad about your Nanna dying, Mommy."

This all came to a head a couple of nights ago when we were reading bedtime stories.  Ethan pointed at a jellyfish in a book and said to me, "Your Nanna has some special medicine to put on me in case of I ever get stung by a jellyfish.  But I guess I can't get that medicine from her now because she died."  This was followed by Ethan's super-sad face (the one usually only reserved for losing his blankie or being denied some much-anticipated outing).

The wheels started turning in my head as I tried to figure out why Ethan thought that he'd had a conversation about jellyfish stings with my Nanna, whom he'd never met.  Suddenly, something clicked, and I realized that in his convoluted little three-year-old mind, he thought that his Mimi (Marc's mom) was my Nanna, AND THAT SHE HAD DIED!  A few questions directed at Ethan confirmed my theory, at which point I warmly assured him that his Mimi was alive and well, and in fact on her way to our house in just a few days.  He was confused at first, then obviously relieved.  His final question was, "Then, Mommy, who died?"  Lesson learned: when the topic of death comes up with your three-year-old, be very sure that you and he are on the same page!