I can’t help but think that with all the mindless shit I read all day long, that the world is totally fucked. People have no idea what the hell matters now and no idea what they are doing on this planet. Jesus, stop bitching about your fat ass! Be thankful you have a body left to dwell in… Newsflash, not everyone does. Stop saying you wished you did this or you wished you did that… Quit living safe because you are too afraid to do what you are afraid of. Quit being a pussy! Make a change or you’ll be the same sad mess the rest of this life and probably the next as well.  I was talking to my daughter the other day, keep in mind that she’s 4, and she said, “Mom, I have loved you so many times, but this time, I love you the most”. I knew what she meant. I almost lost my shit. How does my preschooler get that we’re older than our bodies, but grown adults don’t get it. Lately I’ve had a slew of shit days, and I’ve taken the time during said shit days to think about what I do have going right in my life. Every time, I find peace thinking about my girls. I really am so thankful to have them, and I never forget that. I can’t help but think that whoever created me did so knowing that this go-round in life, I would really need some helpers to keep me from vanishing into some dark, fucked up abyss of depression.

        I think about Aubrey, and how totally unlike me she is. Why was I picked to raise her? She needed a stage mom, not me. When I found out I was pregnant with her I thought it was a cruel joke. I was just on the verge of what was supposed to be the best years of my life. And then suddenly I had to settle down, stop having fun, and be someone’s mother. I had no idea that “fun” as I had known it was shallow and inconsequential compared how hard I laughed the first time she did. I was pulling off her jammies, made a “brrrrrrrp” sound like a car as I ripped off the snaps on her onesie, and she giggled out loud for the first time. It was the first time in my life that I laughed and cried at the same time. I was so happy that I could make her happy, because until then, I was sure she thought I was an idiot (She never smiled, she looked at me and judged me, I was sure of it). When all my friends were turning 21 and having fun, I was hanging out with my kid, who was bald as could be and I loved it. Now she’s older, and I realize that we’re really not that different at all. She loves attention, but she’s humble and doesn’t boast her own accomplishments. She’s really hard on herself and I find myself telling her to take a break, just have fun, slow down, don’t overdo it,  there’s no rush in life and no one cares if you’re not perfect. Sage advice, right? I should take it.

              Then there’s Lucah. Holy shitballs I love that kid. I used to wonder how the hell I would love as much as I loved Aubrey, since she was perfect. When I was pregnant with Lucah, I thought about the girls playing together and the new baby taking a toy from Aubrey and me getting defensive, but it didn’t happen that way. That really corny saying that love doesn’t divide for another baby, it multiples… Holy hell. So.Damn.True. When Micah died, I wanted to be dead too. The thought of possibly living decades and decades without seeing him or calling him or laughing with him made me insane. I would envision what it would be life to see him again, and it was the only time I felt any peace at all. I looked at Aubrey and thought that since I was now half of a person, she was getting half of a mom, and that just wasn’t fair. She was 2, she would be ok without me for sure. Surely someone would meet her dad and fall in love with her and pow! New Mommy for Aubrey. Yes, I was incredibly fucked up. I never got to a point of planning my demise, but I wished for it. The only reason I kept fighting to maintain my own health was because if I died, so did the baby inside me, and I didn’t think that was fair. I made her a promise to give her a shot at life, and then I would be outtie 5000. She kept me alive for six months purely by existing. Call it what you want, but she was with me for a reason and we both knew it. I look at her now, and she’s so sensitve but strong. I really think I might be her favorite person in the whole world and that’s a really neat feeling. Sometimes I wish she would be more of an asshole, because kids can be cruel. When the bullies call her fat, I wish she would just beat the piss out of them, because physically, she’s strong enough to. And Lord knows I would be proud of her if she did. Some kids just need a good ass kicking, especially those that go out of their way to hurt Lucah, considering she’s the coolest kid in the world. I keep telling her though that those kids are assholes. Yes, I tell her they’re assholes. She’s an old soul; she deserves to be treated as such. I tell her their existence in this world means little compared to hers and she needs to remember that at the end of the day, she’s a badass and they probably go home and wish they were as smart as she is or as funny or as cool. I hope one day she believes me. Or I hope she decides to kick their asses. I would buy her a new bike if she did.  

And then there is Payte. My little Martian baby. She is the epitome of an old soul. From the moment she was born, I knew she was different. I’ve come to accept that she is far more intelligent than her little body can handle and I should stop being surprised when she says the most mind boggling stuff. If there is anything I know for sure about her, it’s that she is the definition of pure and good. She is so kind and sweet and gentle. Sometimes I look at her and it takes my breath away because her eyes are the same color as Micah’s were and I can trick myself into seeing his face in hers. It’s a trip, but I love it. I love that somehow genetics allowed a little part of him to live on physically through me. I remember how much I wanted her, how much she was going to be all that was beautiful about the love than her dad and I had. She was going to be our baby, created because we were in love. Blah blah blah. I cannot help but think about Fun’s lyrics, the most amazing things can come from some terrible lies. So true. I might have gotten so lost in the illusion of what I wanted to see that I was blind to what was really in front of me, but Paytlen is still the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Literally. Her face is flawless and she looks like a toy. I’m fairly certain she will grow up to be a doctor… or a supermodel. Hopefully both.  She’s such a creature of habit that it’s funny. No one leaves the house without a hug and a kiss or all hell breaks loose. It’s not a bad habit to have. Our family knows all too well not to take tomorrow for granted. Payte helps to remind us that, and I think we all subconsciously know we need her to keep us in check. I can’t help but look at her and Hayslie and know that they might be the only ones in the world who could understand how much I loved Micah.

            This reminds me, I should talk about Hayslie. Never in a million years did I think I would have four daughters. Never in a bazillion years did I think I would love it. I think Hayslie makes me love it just a little bit more. I used to wonder how a kid could come into the world as the youngest and still make a splash, but she sure as hell did. I think I am a little more lenient with her because she’s the baby, but also because I never thought she was ever actually going to be around. From the moment I was pregnant with her, I had a bad feeling. I remember getting pissed at my doctors for keeping me pregnant when I knew the longer we went the more likely I was to be delivering a dead baby.  I hated them and I hated that my body was being used as a human coffin. When my water broke prematurely, I was half relieved because I knew she was finally going to be out of me and finally someone could intervene with what I knew was going to be her eminent demise if she stayed in my body. I have no idea why, but I knew that she needed to be out, even prematurely, if she was going to live. A full term birth was going to be a death sentence for her and I knew it. Once she was out of the NICU and home with us, I knew Hayslie was going to be awesome. She used to wake up every single time, open her eyes, and grin wildly that she was awake again. It made me laugh every time. Now, she’s such a stinker and so stubborn, I can’t help but think that the world has no idea what it’s in for with her. She will no doubt be leaving behind a huge dent when she leaves this world, no doubt in my mind at all.

            I have to say, I really don’t know who created me and where I came from, but I know that for some reason, no matter how fucked up life may be, that there is a rhyme and reason for everything and sometimes I’m just too small to see the big picture. I hate when people say that I’m “lucky” because there was nothing lucky about how I got here. I could very easily have taken a different path, made different choices, and had a totally different life.  I also hate when people say that I am “blessed” because that implies that some part of all this was easy. As if Micah died and I was just oh-so-thankful that I was knocked up and couldn’t off myself when I wanted to. It wasn’t a blessing. I was some finely tuned planned made by someone so much more awesome than we are all that knew exactly which pieces to play in this life so that when shit hit the fan, we all had each other to make damn sure we were ok. I wasn’t blessed with the family I have. We traveled many lifetimes together and I’m sure we fucked up royally in the past, which is why we can make this look easy. We’re old souls. Like Plato said, we are merely a soul that has been put into a body, already knowing everything we needed to know. We just need those experiences to unlock what we already knew, and we go from there.

            I have been very meticulous about whom I have in my corner, and many people have been nixed for not having anything worth a damn to contribute to the journey. I’ve definitely learned that this is not supposed to be a serious life and I’m trying my hardest to make the kids see that as long as they are trying to leave this world a better place than I brought them in to it, I could not ask for more. I want them to live their lives, not one I carefully scripted for them. I want them to look back on life when they are ready to go and not regret a single moment. I have regrets, I want better for them. I have hurt ones I loved dearly and lost friends I miss painfully. I missed chances to do great things because I was afraid and I’ve doubted myself when I never should have. I will die with these regrets. I am a young soul still, lots and lots of kinks to work out, that’s part of the journey; I am a work in progress.  For the girls, they have a world of opportunities ahead of them and my only purpose in this life now is to show them they are able to do anything they want if they just want it bad enough. They were put in to these perfectly functioning, healthy little bodies and they have an obligation to themselves to make damn sure it isn’t wasted by living safe.