Livie piped in innocently, and with almost a touch of hurt in her voice - "but you got to bring me home"
And we did - I have my Livie. (and she has her cake)
I have been emotionally and physically exhausted, so Livie has been going to daycare. It is her normal, and I needed the alone time. But she is right, I got to bring her home. So tomorrow, we are going to try and have a 'home day'.
Livie loves home days. And normally, so do I. Tomorrow I hope that I can live up to her expectations. We made a list of things we want to do tomorrow, and included on the list is playing with her cake.
We ordered a monkey cake for Carter's funeral. I didn't realize it was never served (cupcakes were easier I suppose) until I cleaned out our fridge a week and a half ago and found it. I set it out with the intention of tossing it, but then Livie found it. She screamed out "Carter!" when she first saw it, and has been talking to the monkey on the cake like it is her brother ever since. She runs out into the kitchen to say good morning as soon as she wakes up, and always says goodnight before going to bed. In-between there, she talks to him, tickles him, brings him toys and hugs him. Dora's buddy Boots the monkey is constantly perched next to the cake to watch over Carter, and the top of the cake box is NEVER to be closed.
I haven't encouraged or discouraged her relationship with the cake. I figure it is one of her ways to cope, so I will let her do what she has to do. I don't have the heart to throw it away, so I have a nearly month-old cake, with rock hard frosting sitting on my kitchen counter. It breaks my heart when she hugs that cake. I hope that someday Livie understands that I wanted to bring Carter home not just for myself, but for her too. He is part of our family, and hugging a little brother beats hugging a cake any day.
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