Someone's Missing

When filling out paper work, it's sometimes difficult...

     How many people live in your household? _____
     How many children do you have? _____
     What is your marital status? single, married, divorced, widowed

While the answers are 3, 2, and married, respectively, the numbers just don't add up. How can you have a mom, dad, and 2 children living in a household, but have it only add up to 3? I often wonder if they think I (a math teacher) can't add, or I don't understand the questions, or maybe they just think it's a typo. I doubt that they ever stop and realize that someone's missing.

Adam and I were talking about planning Nora's first birthday party (rainbow themed, of course!), and he asked me, "What day should we have Danni's party?" I was confused for a minute, then asked if he meant Nora's. He did. And when I started talking about plans, I realized that in my mind, we had a 1-year-old running around, along with a 2 1/2-year-old. And all of a sudden it was like in cartoons when the thought bubble "poofs" away into thin air. We will only have one child at this party, only one little pair of legs to chase after. The feeling after came back to me. The one after Danni died, being home, but missing someone. That emptiness. It was almost like having empty arms again, but this time, it wasn't my arms, it was our home, one crib, one high chair, one baby to feed, change, chase around, hear giggle.