Daughters

We did it. We bought a former gated community of the 1980s, long since abandoned. Legend says the place is cursed. That sounds like nonsense to me.

We can rebuild the community like we rebuilt our lives. Whatever happens, we'll come out on the side of happiness. We always do.

Moving day is less than a month away. We'll spend the 4th of July in our new home. The 4th of July is two holidays at once for us. It's also Dwayne's birthday. My birthday is January 11th. I don't believe in astrology, but I believe I'm a Capricorn.

Silas, the cat, curls up to one side of me and sleeps. Delaney sleeps next to my other side. I'm sitting up on a couch, on the verge of sleep myself, thoughts keeping me awake.

I stroke Delaney's hair and wonder how I'm raising her. There's a big red bow in the back of her hair that I unclasp and place on the nearby coffee table. My mother says boys are closer to their mothers and girls are closer to their fathers. Because of this theory, my mother also thinks she and I would have understood each other more had I been a boy. If this belief had value, and I don't think that's the case, then I would have a very lonely destiny ahead of me. All my children are girls. I'm not worried about superstition, which is what poorly researched sociological theories are. My children admire me.

Aubrey wants to be me. Aubrey used to look in mirrors at herself and say she was imagining growing up to be me. You can't get a higher compliment than that.

At the same time, I don't want to intimidate the girls. I've gotten angry at them. Once, after the two oldest caused a scene at the grocery store, I was angry to the point Dwayne said, "Back off, woman! Don't crush their spirits!"

We continued to argue, even though I suspected he had a very good point. I also had a very good point. The kids can't do anything and everything they want. I know I'm controlling, but I have my reasons and want to be a good leader. That's all I ever really wanted.

Relationships can't be replaced, especially not the most important relationships. All I ever really wanted is still not as important as my family. I know that, and my family is more important than my pride.

I still held on to my pride. If our daughters did anything and everything they wanted, they could bring about the apocalypse if angry enough. The next day, Aubrey and Parker were pleading with me to forgive them, swearing they would never do anything to make me hate them again. Of course, I never hated my children. I told them this and did forgive them, but the older two continued apologizing profusely. This is unusual for these girls. They are very strong-willed and outspoken girls.

What created the scene in the grocery store in the first place was the two of them telling the free sample vendor that his pork and onion pudding squares were disgusting. They said this while throwing their samples and other samples to the ground, smashing them with their feet. The overhead sign for Aisle 4 burned into pieces around the unsuspecting salesman. I knew that was due to the girls, and that was when I really let them have it. In contrast, these kids were pleading with me to stop being mad at them by the next morning. Granted, they didn't know the vendor and I'm their mother.

The amount of power I have over their emotional well-being is the biggest responsibility I've ever had. So, while they aren't permitted to get away from bad behavior without punishment, I don't care if I can't completely control them. Saying that is hard. Crushing their spirits would be harder.

I think I overwhelmed my mother with similar behavior. The girls aren't too much for me. I know how they operate, especially Aubrey, even if I can't always predict every potential problem.

Parker just walked out of her room for a drink of water. She's supposed to be in bed. I motion for her to stay quiet and not wake Delaney. A less rational version of me would lecture her about moving around the house after bedtime. Thankfully, that's not where I am in life.

I'm very glad I relaxed before raising children, even though I had to go through hell to get to both of those life events.

In some respects, I'm glad I went through hell. I appreciate the people around me more because of what I've been through.

Those are not the sounds of getting water. Parker Blaire is fixing herself a midnight feast. I roll my eyes, carry Delaney to bed, tuck her under blankets and kiss all the quintuplets, then walk to the kitchen. Maybe I'll give Parker a break. She played goalie in a soccer game today, and her team lost.

Maybe I won't give her a break. This child's mouth is overflowing with shredded cheese. She's allergic to dairy. Not severely allergic, but she's going to smell awful for days.

"HiMomIloveyou."

We're at a standstill for what's probably seconds, but feels like minutes. "You know what? I love you, too, but I'm going to wake up your dad. This is one for him."

My 7-year-old attempts a sheepish grin as cheese falls to the floor. "I also have cheese in a can," she volunteers, pointing to and holding up a squeezed can.

"I can see that. It's on your face, silly girl."

I know she's smashing a Twinkie as I leave the kitchen. She smashes Twinkies to, in her words, "see the life drain out of them". I swear, my husband and I are raising perfectly functioning young human beings.

I go into my bedroom and sit on the bedside, gently nudging my husband.

He's used to my nudging him awake for help with the girls. He sleeps like a rock under most circumstances, and he goes to bed early these days if he can help it. He has some physical disabilities that tire him out, and time hasn't made them easier. Time has worsened his disabilities, as muscles and age don't mix well. Still, we do our best to help each other.

"Hi, sweetie," I say. We share a kiss before I explain the situation. "There's a very silly brunette in the kitchen stress-eating cheese, and she's allergic to cheese."

Dwayne chuckles. "I'll talk to her." He reaches over to the nightstand and puts on his glasses, looking me over by the light of the hallway. "You look like you need sleep, Gladys."

It's blunt, but it's true. I'm equally blunt.

"I do need sleep. Moving is keeping me awake."

"Thinking about our lives is keeping you awake."

"That, too. Why aren't you going in the kitchen before Parker turns into a block of cheese?" I ask, climbing into the bed. I pull the covers over myself and fall into my pillows.

"Hold your horses, Nancy. I'm going."

He leaves the bedroom, and I hear from the kitchen, "Do you want to stink? Because this is how you stink," and a laughing daughter.

I'm barely asleep when it's my turn. Dwayne doesn't need to nudge me awake so much as return to the room and start talking, so I know I couldn't have attempted sleep for very long. I still wake up early, so I can just imagine what a fun and not at all exhausting morning awaits. I'm so taking the kids to breakfast at a restaurant instead of eating at home. Dwayne can deliver my morning coffee in bed, and I'll tell him this. Hours from now, the kitchen will probably still smell like gas.

"From what I hear, Parker was in the kitchen because Aubrey was crying in their room. Parker was confused and scared," Dwayne says. "She's sleeping on the couch now. You might want to check on Aubrey."

I shuffle toward Aubrey and Parker's shared room, wondering if the oldest is asleep by this point.

I'm instantly more awake when I see the window open to the night sky, Aubrey looking down on the city and muffling sobs.

Turning around to see me, Aubrey says, "If you make me move, I'll never be happy again. Never! I could never be happy somewhere new!"

I'm reminded of myself at just about her age saying almost the exact same thing to my parents. "You're never happy anyway," was my mother's response. "Was that really necessary?" asked my father. My mother said it was the truth, and that was the end of that.

Back in the present, I extend my arms to Aubrey. She hugs me tightly. "You're ruining my life," she says between sobs.

"Baby, I really think you'll like this. If you hate it, I promise I'll get you a city apartment as soon as you turn 18." Why did I promise that?

"That's too long away! I'll be dead by then! Wild animals will kill me before I'm 18!"

Oh good god.

"That's not how it works. Nothing will kill you. You're strong, smart, fast, and popular. You can survive anything, and people like you. Time goes faster than you know. Much, much faster. Your father and I love you more than life, and we won't let anything hurt you. Lafontants fight back, okay? If you face this adventure head on, I will be so proud of you."

She's not crying anymore.

I have a mini me with her arms around my waist, hoping for dear life to make me proud.