I love my daughters. I love them with every fiber of my soul. I feel what they feel. When they are happy, my heart sings. When they are sad, I fight the tears. I love the women they are becoming. I love listening to their stories of their days, the way they conquer their world, the way the come back fighting after the world conquers them.
I miss the little girls. I miss being able to solve all their problems. I miss being able to pick them up and hug them so tight their eyes bug.
So Grace is giving some of this back to me now. I have a little girl here. She is frightened and simple in her understanding of the world. She needs constant reassurance and can't make any decisions for herself.
This morning I came downstairs to see her already up and on the couch. I knew I had to check. Sure enough, she had wet the bed, her pants, the couch. Time to change diapers and throw everything in the wash. Not exactly the child I'd pick, but a child none the less. I told her we had to clean her up and she didn't understand why. I mean she already WENT to the 'bathroom' so why bother?
Since other caregivers have not been as diligent, I spent part of yesterday at a laundrymat washing the cushions. Through the miracle of garbage bags and duct tape, I covered the couch and placed another fabric cover over the whole couch (easier to wash). Mark down yet another use for duct tape. I just love duct tape; isn't that stuff great?!?
So explain to me how she can totally forget to use a toilet yet still be able to tie her shoes? Hm.