As my oldest gets older, his questioning becomes more complex. It should. He is beginning to take the world he knows and the answers provided and put them together. Sometimes it helps, sometimes not.

He wanted a bedtime story the other night but not from one of his books. I began to create a story about a little boy who rode his pet triceratops everywhere. I was quickly informed that Wyatt Bear was part of this adventure. The story was told, prayers were said, and music was on ready for him to sleep.

He stopped me to ask “Mommy, was Wyatt sick?” I replied back with a quick yes so to try to escape with minimal stalling. “Well mommy, I get sick but I don’t go to heaven. What kind of sick did Wyatt have? What went wrong.” At that moment I realized that he was starting to put some things together, and because I didn’t want him thinking that sickness will inevitably lead to death, I had to clarify. I explained that mommy and daddy and even the doctor didn’t know what really happened and that it wasn’t the same type of sickness that he had ever experienced. “Wyatt didn’t get allergies mom?” While chuckling at such an endearing question,  I told him that Wyatt’s heart stopped beating but he didn’t need to worry because he was a healthy little boy.

The answer seemed to satisfy him for now. He still refers to Wyatt being sick, but “not my kind of sick.”

My big boy is getting older. The conversation will change, but I know his little brother Wyatt will always be a part of it. I am so proud of how amazing he loves his little brother. With Love- Heather

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