My daughter and I have been on a rollercoaster together since her very first breaths. She is my love, my joy and the reason I feel like screaming as I dive head first into a glass of red wine at the end of the day.
My son is a soothing balm in temperament. He laughs, smiles and sings his way merrily through the day. When he is not scaling the furniture in search of new ways to give himself a head injury, that is.
With this information, you might wonder why, when I was at the library last week, did I pick up a DVD of Cirque Du Soleil. Why? I thought it would be mesmerizing, I like the music…
Monday being a holiday, meant three days of all Mommy all the time as my husband of course was at work.
I’m just putting in a load of laundry, when I hear it, the inevitable screech of pain, coming from the livingroom.
“Why…” I ask as I charge into the livingroom expecting to see the little guy in tears and in pain, which is most often the case.
Not this time, it’s Miss Sassy Pants in a screech of anguish with tears pouring down her sweet face she explains that she’s stuck on a storage basket that I keep tucked under the coffee table, and which houses our DVD collection.
I quickly undo her shirt and start the Mommy tirade of “why, why,WHAT and why” as I take in the warren of tunnels she has created of blankets, pillows and assorted toys throughout the livingroom all in a matter of minutes as I was trying to tackle the Mount Vesuvius of laundry.
All throughout my tirade she listens with her big green eyes pouring tears and the occasional whimper. For once,there is no snappy comeback. For once, she is not trying to argue, I mean negotiate things to her way of thinking.
Out of breath, I ask her to please clean all this mess up and can we please not do this again since someone got hurt.
Ok, she says. But can you please kiss my back.
Of course, I pull her into my arms and lift her shirt so I can kiss where she was stuck on the basket. Only, then do I see the gash/welt that runs from her shoulder-blade past her tushie. My poor baby girl.
Later, as I was applying Neosporin along with a couple more kisses for good measure, I asked her. “What were you doing, to hurt yourself like this?”
At first, I got a blatant, lie. I explained that due to physics, her explanation couldn’t possibly be true, and asked would she please try again to tell me what had happened.
She got real quiet, and very softly said, “Something Amazing”.
So much for Cirque Du Soleil.