The Story of My Baby Brothers
Usually falls on glazed over eyes as the children look at me like why were you so happy to have another mouth in your house. Another person to fight with and for, could not be related to by most of the children in DAYCARE. Everything is all about them, my turn, my turn, my turn is what they are learning.
This crew was all ears to my story. A very first! When I got to the part where Aunt Karla came out and told us it was a boy, they were a little quizzical, but could relate.
But...when I told the story about mommy sending us into the room to quiet baby, we all started a chant, which was so cathartic, I can't even tell you how much. They started Howling and I with them. It was a low and gravelly cry that I heard everyday of my childhood, but I never hear it in daycare.
It was the gravelly cry of the baby of the family being comforted by the other children as we all cried together, my heart was lifted, like never before. I knew them and they knew me. We were one together in the cry of interdependent children. We were one in the primal scream of children who love each other and have learned to enter into eachother's dire need for maternal attention. The Where is Mommy cry and we can't comfort you, but we can cry with you cry!
We comforted each other, that others can talk about you and would have killed you, if they had their way, through abortion and other means of killing your dreams and wonderment. And they continue to kill you, daily but you have eachother's cries to comfort you and to lean on, when no one ever understands and can see, your crib and the hand that pats your back! UGGGGGGGHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!
