I'm sitting here with my 3 year old daughter, who just said to me, "I love you mommy. And you're not going to die right?" And she hugs me and looks up at me with her huge greenblue eyes. What do I tell her? Lie, and say no mommy's never going to die? She already lost me for a month, so she knows I'm not impervious to injury or sickness...don't we all think at 3 years old that our parents are superheroes? So I just hug her tight and say mommy's right here next to you. How horrible that a 3-year-old girl has to worry about her mommy dying. It makes me so angry that my kids had the security of their mom always being here ripped away from them. Gabe wakes up crying almost every night, and half the time he climbs into our bed. He's afraid to sleep in his room by himself. He wasn't like this before the accident. He used to love going to preschool, and never worried about when mommy or daddy were picking him up. Now, every day he asks to stay home with mommy, and once he realizes that isn't happening, he begs daddy to "make it a short day ok daddy?" My poor babies...I wish I could keep them all hojme with me each day to make up for the month that I missed, but I am just not strong enough yet. I may have the physical injuries of the accident, but ALL of us were hurt here. My entire family was hurt by this accident. And I hope we can heal those emotional hurts as well as my bones are healing. Zack and PJ are just angry. Their grades have suffered, I noticed at Christmas break. Zack's teachers call me each week, wondering how we can get through to him. He was goofing off all the time anyway, and now he's not doing any work at all. He doesn't talk about it much either...even the threat of repeating 7th grade is not waking him up. I just keep thinking of Einstein and how he didn't make it past 8th grade...this kid is my Einstein. *sigh*
I miss cooking for my family...and picking them up or squeezing them tight...I miss my husband holding me like he wasn't afraid I would break. I baked cookies the other day...slow as hell and sore from the repetition of spooning the dough...silly things like that are difficult. But it was so great to watch the kids come home and devour those cookies while they goofed around and laughed...they make it worth it. They are the reason I'm still here...they are why I fought so hard to live!
