{"id":109,"date":"2007-01-22T22:29:52","date_gmt":"2007-01-23T06:29:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.wordpress.com\/2007\/01\/22\/rip-tuck-the-turtle\/"},"modified":"2007-01-22T22:29:52","modified_gmt":"2007-01-23T06:29:52","slug":"rip-tuck-the-turtle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/?p=109","title":{"rendered":"R.I.P. Tuck the Turtle"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Under a tree in our backyard lies our beloved Tuck the Turtle. In our house lies a sad little girl who can&#8217;t figure out how the animals actually get to heaven &#8211; and I have no idea how to explain it to her.<\/p>\n<p>When we returned home last night I thought Tuck looked a little, um&#8230;&#8221;stiffer&#8221; than usual. But I changed his water and hoped for the best &#8211; he has pulled that trick before and I thought maybe he really was just sleeping. When we got up this morning and Emma tried to convince me that he was in fact sleeping, I knew that poor little Tuck was gone.<\/p>\n<p>So I proceeded to tell her that he had died and was up in heaven with other pets like Nana &amp; Papa&#8217;s puppy, Brandie. We had a similar discussion a few months ago when Brandie had died. She nodded very solemnly and said, &#8220;Yeah, Tuck got dead.&#8221; And she continued on her morning. I thought I had gotten off easy, she really didn&#8217;t seem too upset over it.<\/p>\n<p>So I wrapped Tuck up and put him into the garbage. And about 10 minutes later Emma came out and asked where he was.<\/p>\n<p>Me: &#8220;Uh, um&#8230;.he is up in heaven, remember?&#8221;<br \/>\nEm: &#8220;Yeah, but where is his cage?&#8221;<br \/>\nMe: &#8220;Well, I put him aside and we will go out and bury him during Addie&#8217;s nap. That way Jesus can come take him up to heaven. (Yes, totally pulling that out of my you-know-what! I just didn&#8217;t want her to see that I had tossed him in the trash, so I had to go back and dig him out!)<\/p>\n<p>Again, she was pacified and seemed ok about it all.<\/p>\n<p>Then we had the actual Turtle funeral. I took a spoon outside, dug a little hole, said a few words about Tuck and buried him.  Emma picked out the tree to bury him under and chose a nice big one in the middle of the lawn because it was in a very sunny spot and &#8220;Tuck liked to sit in the sun in our kitchen&#8221;.<\/p>\n<p>Then we were just kind of sitting there &#8211; enjoying the sun, thawing out a little from our wintery wonderland vacation and Emma says &#8211;<\/p>\n<p>Em: &#8220;How many seconds does it take?&#8221;<br \/>\nMe: &#8220;Does what take?&#8221;<br \/>\nEm: &#8220;How many seconds until Jesus comes to take Tuck?&#8221;<br \/>\nMe: (Ack!) &#8220;Um, well. Jesus is kind of like Santa&#8230;(I know, blasphemy! I don&#8217;t think God will strike me down for the comparison, though. I mean, really how do you explain this to a 3-year old!!)&#8230;he is magic. We don&#8217;t know when he&#8217;ll come down, but he will.<br \/>\nEm: &#8220;I miss Tuck, Mama.&#8221;<br \/>\nMe: &#8220;I know, Em.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Meanwhile, my heart is breaking for her. Not really about Tuck so much &#8211; she seems to be doing pretty well with the whole thing, or maybe she is just kind of oblivious and doesn&#8217;t understand it all. But I just got very emotional and sad thinking of the many times she is going to miss someone, or lose someone and there isn&#8217;t anything I can do about it, and nothing I can do to take her hurt away.<\/p>\n<p>That breaks my heart. That realization that no matter how hard you try you just can&#8217;t protect your children from everything.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Under a tree in our backyard lies our beloved Tuck the Turtle. In our house lies a sad little girl who can&#8217;t figure out how the animals actually get to heaven &#8211; and I have no idea how to explain &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/?p=109\">Continue reading <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[55,120],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-109","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-emma","category-parenting"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/psMOS-1L","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/109"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=109"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/109\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=109"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=109"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/barelycontrolledchaos.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=109"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}