Ah, the five sweetest words any mother could ever wish to hear. Yes, Leina has finally turned the corner. For the past 17 months her mantra has been “get that baby away from me.” But yesterday, she changed her tune and I actually watched as she grabbed her sister’s hand and said, “come play with me Kulia.”

I wept with joy.

Through the torrential flow of motherly tears, I watched Leina lead Kulia up the stairs hand in hand. A sigh of joy escaped my lips as I settled down with the paper, a cup of coffee, and a bit of quiet mom time. I heard them as they trugged up the steps where Leina declare they were going to play house. There were various thumping sounds and then I heard Leina singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Next thing I knew, she was standing right next to me, twisting in place and looking around vacantly.

“Um, Leina, where is your sister?” I asked with a tad of concern.

“She’s upstairs,” Leina replied and wandered toward her kitchen set.

“Is she in the play room?” I asked.

“No.”

“Is she in your room?”

“No. She’s in her room,” Leina clarified and began shuffling threw plastic loafs of bread.

“What is she doing up there honey?” I asked, my motherly concern raising a level from green to yellow.

“Oh, we’re just playing house,” Leina informed me, “I tucked her in and now she is taking a nap.”

Seeing as how it was 9:30am, I was pretty sure Kulia was wide awake. Straining my mommy senses, I could hear her calling out. Only the sound was very faint. It was as if it was coming from behind a closed door. Motherly concern racheted up to orange in a heartbeat.

“Leina, did you put Kulia in a room and close the door?” I asked, nervously.

“Oh mommy,” Leina piffed at me, “she’s just taking her nap. I had to close the door or she wouldn’t sleep. When she cries for me, I’ll go get her.”

We were at red. I put down the coffe and headed upstairs with Leina on my heels. Sure enough the door to Kulia’s room was closed and I could her here inside calling, “EEEEINA! EEEEEINA!”

“Coming baby!” Leina yelled in reply and threw the door open. And here, lying on the ground in the complete dark, was Kulia. Leina had arranged a little bed with a pillow, her blankets and an animal. As I watched, Leina re-tucked Kulia, sang her a very off-key lullaby while rubbing her back, planted a kiss on her head, and walked out, closing the door behind her and leaving her sister alone and in the dark.

“See, aren’t I a good mommy?” Leina grinned up at me as muffled wails of “EEEEEINA” began drifting from under the door.

Ah yes, let the games begin!