Destiny Herndon-DeLaRosa

Archive for April, 2015|Monthly archive page

Thunderstorms

In Uncategorized on April 28, 2015 at 10:18 pm

Screen Shot 2015-04-28 at 5.14.27 PMBefore Eddie went to sleep tonight she folded a blanket and put it next to her bed. As I was tucking her in she whispered in my ear that if it started to rain I should wake her up and we could sit in the garage and watch it together wrapped up in that blanket.

I told her we’d see, but I’d probably be asleep by then too, so it was doubtful.

Then I waited.

And I waited.

There’s been so much lightening but still NO RAIN.

I set up chairs, taunting it to come. There was a loud boom. I put hot chocolate on the stove thinking that would do the trick. A crackle ripped across the sky.

For the last three hours it’s sounded like a freakin’ Pandora thunderstorm station, but still not a drop. Not one.

I need sleep y’all. But Eddie needs memories of cuddling in rainstorms with her mama more, so I’ll stay awake.

Pray for rain. Do a little dance if ya got one. Turn a hose on my house, whatever it takes! All efforts towards us sitting in my cluttered old garage, listening to the pitter patter of rain drops while sipping hot chocolate in the middle of the night will be greatly appreciated.

For now, I’ll sit and wait though… while Eddie sleeps.

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The Circus

In Uncategorized on April 6, 2015 at 7:08 pm

Eu

It’s 5am, and Eddie just peed the bed. Which wouldn’t be that big of a deal except she was sleeping in Eiffel’s bed when this happened, like always. She has her own bed, and heck, her own room for that matter, but she refuses to sleep in there because, really, what fun would it be if you could only pee all over yourself in the wee hours of the morning?

Plus, there’s evidently something about Eiffel’s bed. I’d just changed the sheets a little over 24 hours ago when Eunitas chose it as the perfect barfing spot. Again, has his own bed- barfs in sister’s. Rotten, curled milk puke too… there’s nothing like it. So for the second time in as many days Abrahm and I resume our parental defunkifying duties; I strip the sheets, he scrubs the mattress with this weird carpet cleaning broom-brush monstrosity, that at first glance seems like overkill, until your nostrils remind you it’s not. At which point the baby, the barfing one with the fever who’s been glued to my side like a little broken radiator all night, notices 90% of his skin is no longer melded to mine through sweat and heat so now he’s also in Eiffel’s room, doing what else but trying on his sister’s shoes. I tell myself this is just an odd behavior brought on by his fever induced delirium (but that doesn’t explain why he did it last week too).

I pile them all in the bathtub, and I can’t help but think back to a few days ago when a friend mentioned how kids from big families end up a lot more screwed up than the rest of us. At first I was inclined to argue that, but as I sit here looking at this picture of my little cross-dresser I can only think, “yeah, therapy.” Even still, I’m so jealous of this childhood they’re getting to live. They love each other fiercely, and won’t be one bit shocked by the volume and chaos of the real world one day… because while most kids just get to go to the circus, mine get to live it.