How To Save a Life

[diandradawn]

I stumbled across this just now and it seemed relevent to today so I decided to repost it. 

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"Destiny, do we have a deal?" I look down at her sad little face, hoping she'll agree to this negotiation if for no other reason than the hatred I have for disciplining her.

"Yeah. Quiche Mom."
"Quiche?" I ask, wondering what my grandmother's favorite casserole had to do with anything.
"You know Mom. Quiche. Like, pakeesh? You know, deal?"
I start laughing and hug her. "You mean capisce?" I wonder when she started talking like a miniature Robert Di Niro.
She says, "That's what I said crazy. And deal. I'll be good. No more pulling stuff," referring to her temper tantrum in class where she started pulling toys off the shelves after her teacher asked her to sit down for lunch.
She prances off to her room and I'm left to shake my head, pondering where the little girl I once held in my arms went.

With everything going on lately, I frequently feel like I'm losing sanity. I feel overcome by the obstacles in my way and have to admit that the option of giving up looks more and more enticing every week.

But those little mini-me's that inhabit my world keep me going. Even while in the throes of some monumental demon-child-moment they've been my saving grace.

 

I'm laying in bed, staring at the fabric on my comforter, remembering the day in high school when my mom bought it for me. Remembering the matching curtains that we really couldn't afford, but she bought me anyway. I'm slowly tracing my finger over the fading areas and the small rip from Jason's shoes when we first started dating. I'm half listening to Little Einsteins which is playing in the next room, but really my mind is focused on years ago when I had many problems but very little to actually worry about. I think of all that this last year has brought me and I struggle to fight back tears. I know I should be out in the living room with my girls but I can't seem to pull myself out of bed.
"Ow!
"Mom! Hannah's pulling Liesey's hair! Hannah! No!"

I jump out of bed and wrestle the gleefully mischievous Hannah off of her sister. She screams, angry that she's being kept from her most beloved hobby: sister tormenting. She rages and kicks and I finally wrestle her into her crib so she can be contained while I look up exorcism techniques on the internet. By the time I have everyone calm, I've been out of bed for thirty minutes and am too awake to go back.

Saved from my internal gloom again.

 

I'm driving in the car, daydreaming again as I drive us all home. I'm thinking of how much better I'd hoped this Christmas would be and praying that I still have those nearest to me here next year as well. I'm silently praying that each of my daughters will be old enough to have memories of their grandparents to treasure for always. I'm losing myself in my thoughts and prayers when a shriek interrupts my reverie.
"Stop Destiny! It is life over!"
"It is not life over Liesey! You'll live and Mommy doesn't have to give your 'oomagy.'"
"Eulogy." I interrupt. I smile, wondering if they really do listen to everything I say.
"What is a 'Oomagy?'" The bickering is forgotten.
"It's when someone dies and people get up and say nice things about them while everyone remembers the person who died."
I watch Destiny in the rearview mirror as she tilts her head and thoughtfully taps her cheek, "And then the died person comes back because they're so sad?"
"Not quite my love. But close enough for today."
All is quiet until Destiny changes the subject and asks, "So Liesey and Hannah were in your tummy, right?"
"Yes."
"And so they're sisters. And me and Skyra were in my mommy's tummy and so we're sisters."
"That's right. Good job Des."
She's silent then starts to quietly cry.
"What's wrong my love?"
"Oh Mommy." She looks at me with wide eyes, "I don't ever, ever want to go back in there!" I laugh my first big belly laugh for the day as I reassure her that that is one thing she will never need to worry about. I spend the rest of the drive chatting with the girls about mommies and castles and whether or not Eloise or Cinderella had two mommies.

 

Later, I'm sitting on the couch, straddled by an Anneliese. "Mama, do you know why you're so so so yucky?" she whispers, squishing my face with her chubby hands and breathing her warm, chocolate milk breath.
"Well, are we talking yucky like, 'Ew Hannah just pooped in my cherry shoes' yucky? Or more, 'Santa Claus brought me a bike, I'm the luckiest kid in the world!' lucky?" Clarifying since Anneliese frequently mixes her "L's" and "Y's."
"Hmm. Yucky like Santa Claus yucky."
"Okay then. Why am I so so so lucky?"
"Because you have me."
I wrap my arms tightly around her and kiss her on her nose before pulling her closer so she can rest her head on my shoulder.

I take a deep breath and think:

Absolutely my dear. Absolutely.

[my4pinkroses]

Feb. 23, 2010 at 9:10 PM

[Lillyanna444]

Feb. 25, 2010 at 7:27 AM

You write beautifully!!