Boo-tay Call

Frida Kahlo and Minnie Mouse last Halloween.
No correlation between this photo and this post. It's just a spunky pic, ya know?

Sabrina caught a cold last week, and stayed home from school on Friday.
She wasn't totally "out of commission" sick, but had all the standard cold-like symptoms. Congestion, sore throat, cough.

Since Chloe catches pretty much everything, I quarantined Sabrina to the far side of the living room, where she could hack to her hearts content, and I wouldn't nag her too much about staying away from her sister.

Sabrina, agreed to the quarantine, on one condition.
"You know I don't do deals, Sabrina," I told her.
"It's not a deal mama," she said
"I just want to bring my bean bag chair into the living room."

Pay no mind, that there is a perfectly good chair, expressly for the purpose of sitting, curled up with your blankey, when you don't feel good.

We went back and forth for a few minutes, until finally the bean bag won out.

She dragged it, along with the book she was reading for school, to her little "corner" of the room, and happily ensconced herself in it's comfy embrace.

About an hour went by, maybe more, and things were quiet.
The television was on, but Sabrina, Chloe and I were each doing our own thing.

"I'm sorry Boo-tay," I heard Sabrina say.

At first, I thought I heard her wrong.

"Sabrina," I said, "Did you just apologize to your butt?"

"Yes, mama," she said nonchalantly.

"Why, in the world, would you need to say sorry to your booty," I ask.

"Well," she said matter of factly "I took a break from sitting on my bean bag, and was sitting on the floor, but after a while my booty started to hurt, so...," her voice trailed off. "I just thought I should say I was sorry."

"What?" she said, as I looked at her, my eyebrow raised,
"Why are you looking at me like that?"

She promptly got up from the floor, and plopped herself back onto the bean bag chair.

"Ahh," she said, "that's better."

Hooray for beanbags.

Freedom

I am a proud mama. I have two little girls, Sabrina, who will be ten this year, and Chloe, who will be six. I think kids are great. Growing up, I was the neighborhood babysitter. I raked in the dough. Two bucks an hour, my friends, a pretty penny.
I fancied myself to be quite patient.

Well, mostly...usually.

As I get older, I have what Oscar, refers to affectionately as a "short fuse."
I really don't agree....but will admit to occasionally losing my patience.
I mean, motherhood is a tough job.

Sabrina is super smart (what mother's child isn't), and quirky.
She has a personality totally unlike my own. She is independent, outspoken and gregarious. Sassy, but not disrespectful, and a great conversationalist.
She is kindhearted, very patient, and sensitive.

I dig this kid. Really, dig her.

Chloe is a whiz at the computer. She can maneuver game after game, like a pro.
She can show you how to get to the websites for Noggin, Nick Jr., Webkinz, Club Penguin, and Barney (her personal favorite) in no time flat.
She has loads of bookmarks, and can start up or shut down the computer like nobody's business.

I am in awe of her.

Chloe is special. She cannot walk. She cannot speak. She cannot sit up unassisted. She is a prisoner of her own body, but her brain is unaffected. She is intelligent, and amazes me every day.

Chloe recently became the proud owner of a new wheelchair. It has a shiny black frame that glitters in the sun, and is a snazzy shade of purple (her choice). Her name is embroidered on the seat in bright pink. Chloe loves to go out. She loves the mall, which we try and visit often.
Total hardship, I know...Mall...shopping..hmmm....tough.


The first time she used her chair was last month.
I parked my van in the Macy's parking lot at the mall.
I unloaded the chair, and sat her down.
I buckled her seat belt.
She smiled.
Sabrina asked if she could push her.
"Sure, " I said "Just not too fast."
Walking beside Sabrina, I watched as she carefully pushed her sister.
Chloe's eyes were wide, but her smile was priceless.
Freedom.

In the beginning, it was hard. I couldn't help but wonder why I was chosen to be her mother.
I am just an ordinary woman. No special talents or skills. I couldn't do it. I knew I would fail.
Almost six years have gone by. I am still here, we all are. Oscar, Sabrina, Chloe and me.

I used to constantly pray for strength, and patience, BC (before Chloe).
I believe I got what I asked for.