Friday, March 2, 2012
Yesterday was as normal as they get. The little girlies and I spent the day cleaning, bathing, eating, cartooning and later- playing with a cousin friend. Cali went down for her usual late afternoon nap, the short kind, just enough to hold her sleepyness off until bed time.
When I went to retrieve my warm Little out of her bed she was mad. I mean MAD. Cried and cried at the slightest indication that her body was about to be removed from it's post on my hip. So there she stayed. I tried to offer her an array of foods and drinks. She would have none of it. For me this reaction of food refusal sends a fire alarm off in my heart. Cali's first indication that things are not right-is to refuse REFUSE food. Last summer I spent an agonizing 9 days forcing droplets of milk down her throat just to keep her alive, not to mention the first 5 months of her life where she only ate on rare occasions. I get nauseous at the memory.
So right, fire alarms in my very soul. After 3 hours of crying, I forced some baby Tylenol and rocked my Little to sleep. And then, I must know-does this happen to you?
My mind began playing that evil trick on me. The one where I become convinced that life is just too good. Convinced that something horrendous is lurking. Imaginary doom becomes something that feels very real and then I spend a sleepless night bouncing out of bed, bolting to her crib-side to check for breaths in the dark of the night, to feel for rise and fall on her back, to reassure my frantic visions that they are wrong.
From the day I became a mother I have suffered these occasional imaginary fits of panic. The best of which was when I convinced myself on a nightly basis that a robber was going to come though Baby Kaden's bedroom window and silently steal him away. Thus the boy slept in my bed, literally wrapped around my torso for months. I mean I am telling you , I was certain that this WAS going to happen. CERTAIN.
So this morning, while I cooked the waffles for the school kids, a bit of the nights illusions were still lingering and I dropped my butter knife to check the crib.
I opened the door and saw a pair of twinkling blue eyes in the morning shadows.
I get another day! Another day of diapers, bottles and messes. Oh hooray for the messes. They are proof that life is good. Another day of cartooning and bib buttoning and snot wiping.
I am telling you, there is nothing better than Another Day.
Don't you agree?