playing

‘I walked past my girls playing Barbies. They were pretending a girl on the playground had a wheelchair.’: Mom proud of daughters for advocating for baby sister who was diagnosed with Prader-Willi Syndrome at 2 weeks old

“All around you right now are mamas who are terrified to send their kids to school this year. Their hearts break every time their amazing kid comes home with no stories of lunchtime conversations or playground games. My girls no longer have the luxury of living in a perfect, bubble-wrapped world. I, for one, know they are better for it.”

‘Mama, can you come in the water with me, please?’ She was ignored. ‘Mama, come play with me?’ She asked 4 more times. Mama glanced over at her, but never got off the phone.’

“While at the pool, I watched a young Mama and her little daughter enter, dressed in very nice coordinating swimming suits. The mom talked loudly on her phone while her daughter stood waiting. I imagined the photos she took being perfectly posted with a caption like, ‘Pool time with my girly!'”

‘Our child dumped his piggy bank onto his bed. He’s having a Mardi Gras moment, hurling coins like beaded necklaces. ‘You can’t jump off the top bunk!,’ he tells our daughter.’

“I crack open a tired eyelid to see it’s not even 6 a.m. The rain beating down on our roof is drowned out by the billowing coming from our kids’ room. I lose my cool. It’s been under an hour of complete chaos. This is when my husband and I shift from relying on each other, to turning on each other.”

‘No, Mommy! I don’t need a potty!’ The kids erupted in giggles. I should’ve been suspicious LONG before. Holland had been consuming juice boxes and popsicles for HOURS, y’all.’

“I go full-fledged panic mode. Something is amiss. I can smell it. Holland: ‘I DONT NEED A POTTY!’ Ben: ‘BAHAHAHAHAHHAA! She doesn’t need a potty, Mom! Our clubhouse ALREADY HAD a potty!’ Golden Retriever: *whimpering slightly* I climb up the ladder. My children are pointing to… A dog bowl.”

‘Lathered in sunscreen, poolside, I suddenly realized my son wasn’t with me. My eyes hit the shallow end. I spotted a toddler completely submerged in water. The world stopped. I plunged in.’

“I was not the mother to make this kind of error. The mother who looked away. ‘If he’s alive, he’d be kicking, fighting.’ Why wasn’t he fighting? I pulled him onto the cement and thrusted my hand against his back. Fingernails pink, skin pale, lips discolored. His white knuckles gripped my neck. ‘ANDREW. Andrew, please come back to me.'”

 Share  Tweet

Queries: 99 Timer: 0.11621

Cache Hits: 3945 Cache Misses: 469