I don’t think this is what Faith Hill had in mind

Sunday, Drama turns 6.

For those of you who are on the facebook page, you may have seen my re-post this week of her birth story.  It essentially tells the story of Drama entering our lives.  The day Drama took over. 

Now, that was 6 years ago.  Drama is no longer a Dramatic little baby, she’s a Dramatic grade 1er.  She’s big(ger).  One day, she might even make it out of a 5 point harness (yes, I am aware legally she now can.  But she is still more than 5lbs away from the recommended weight to move to a booster and I suppose I am willing to forgo how very much simpler my life would be if she was in a booster seat for a little while longer until it’s safer.)
 

Drama wants to be an artist when she grows up.  She draws all the time.  On everything.
In an effort to steer her into the right direction with her art (and encourage her to look at options that don’t involve her spending her life selling portraits on the street corner) we once made a joke that she should be a tattoo artist.

She is ALL OVER THAT.  In fact, she’s even come to a few consults with us so she could check out the room and has asked some amusingly insightful questions to the artists about exactly how it works and what they do when they don’t like what the person wants drawn.

My 6 year old, the aspiring tattooist.  Sounds good to me, I just need to wait 12 or so more years for free ink!

As you can tell from the first picture, and if you read the birth story blog, you would know that Drama came with a little hang-up.  Born just a little too early, she had a nasty habit of stopping breathing and turning purple.  

I could swear she did it on purpose even as a newborn.

And I still vividly remember standing behind the table surrounded by nurses as they worked on her during one of her episodes, listening to one veteran nurse cooing

‘C’mon little one, breathe.  Just breathe.”

And that has become a mantra around out house ever since.

Because Drama is still prone to stop breathing whenever she’s upset.  She has the longest ‘silent cry’ I have ever seen.  You know, those moments before the cry when their face crumples but they haven’t taken the breath yet to start screaming?  Drama’s takes FOREVER until she looks like Arnie in Total Recall.

Then, once she starts crying, she barely takes time to take a breathe.  Her face turns purple and she goes near-hysterical and you hear me say (at least a few times a day)

“BREATHE, Child! Just Breathe!”

Mostly with an annoyed tone of voice which has over the years replaced the frantic tone I would have when she was an infant.  Because now she CAN breathe.  She knows HOW to breathe.  She’s not in any danger of stopping breathing for good.  She just needs to remember to do it.  So it’s usually followed up by me saying:

“It’s not. that. bad.”

Because she is prone to throwing these breathless fits over every.  little. thing. 
It may be why I carried her up by her armpits and made her eat her lunch before believing she broke her collarbone.
Hence why, on this blog, I opted to call her Drama.

If there is one thing that I have learned from Drama (and trust me, there are many things.  Like be sure to mention that while you love her drawings, mom will not jump up and down with glee if you choose to draw on the brand new leather coach in sharpie to ‘make it pretty’.) it can be summed up in that one word.

Breathe.

Many times, I have heard God whispering to me the same words I use on my children.
And now, more and more in my life, I have heard God telling me the same thing I tell Drama on a daily basis.

“Breathe, child.  Just breathe.”

I know your feelings are hurt.
I know you screwed up.
I know it seems like the world is crashing down.

But child, you need to trust me.  It’s not as bad as it feels right now.  Just breathe.

Because I am prone to throw these breathless fits over every. little. thing.  
I might not contort my face and turn purple before screaming, but I sure
do seem to lose my shit over things that, in the long run, are just not
that bad.  And I CAN breathe.  I know HOW to breathe.  But for whatever reason, instead of focusing on taking that moment to relax, I am too busy doing everything but.

Sometimes I need to take a step back and gain perspective.  Sometimes I need to take the time to put on my big girl panties and power through.  Sometimes I need to be reminded in Whom I  put my trust.

And I can’t do any of that when I am spinning, trying to fix it all myself.  I can’t do that when I forget to take a moment and just breathe.

Oh, the things I learn from my daughter.

So this Sunday, the day before Halloween, my daughter will turn 6 and to celebrate, she will have 15 little artists over for a ‘painting party’.  And since DH is away and I am not sure why I agreed to this craziness, I’m sure every parent who drops their child off will need to give me the same reminder.

Happy birthday little Drama.

You’re more like me than I care to admit (I’m sorry about that, by the
way) and mommy loves you so much, even when you are turning purple.

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