Her Mother's Diaryby ChurchChaptersday oneday fourday eightday tenday fifteenday twenty-threeday twenty-nineday thirty-threeday thirty-nineday forty-twoday forty-fiveday fifty-oneday fifty-fiveday sixty-eightday sevenday forty-nineday sixty-fiveday one...The first day... She’s beautiful. I know how cliche that sounds, yadda yadda yadda. You can shove it. You can keep your meaningless and hollow words all to your thick-headed, shallow minded self. Honestly, I couldn’t care less. Because right now... right at this very moment, right here... I am whole-heartedly alive. You can laugh at me all you want, call me silly, at a loss for words, incapacitated, shell shocked. I can’t say that I would call you out on it. I can’t say that I would declare you a liar. Because it just might be true. I might just be at a complete standstill, at a junction in the road where time stops and all I would like to do is sit and stare at the wonder and the glory that is this moment. It’s a dream. It is a dream that nopony can truly understand... a sort of magic that cannot be harnessed by the unicorns or magicians this legendary land has to offer. It is a golden moment in your life, one that you shall cherish and adore until the day you perish, leave the world knowing that you achieved something worth achieving in life... becoming a mother... Put yourself in my hooves. I just went to tartarus and back to birth that foal. That beautiful, elegant, extraordinary work of nature. That wondrous, breathing, living piece of me, brought into this world for a purpose. I’m not so sure that you really have much to say about that. I’m not so sure that you could say anything about that. So yeah, maybe I’m at a loss for words. So yeah, maybe I can’t exactly place where my feelings lie right now. Sure, perhaps I don’t know what’s next, and I might be kind of scared about that. Okay, I might be scared out of my mind about that... but none of it is important right now. Because she’s here. And I’ve only had her for one day... just one day... but I already know one thing... I love her. I held you in my arms for the first time, Rainbow. I had tears trickling down my cheeks, I had doctors gaze at me and marvel at the newest wonder of the world. I had that dreadful gown draped carelessly over my body, and the lights were bright and rather harsh. Yes, all of the cliches in the world, they were all there, I know how ridiculous that sounds. But that wasn’t at all what I remembered about that day. I find it hard to believe that I even recall those trivial details. The truth is... I only remember you. How frightened you looked, how lost you looked. I remember you clinging to me, crying, for the sudden shift in the way the world looked to you must have indeed been worth making a fuss about. I hushed you. I told you that everything was going to be all right. I promised. I vowed to protect you, my angel, my precious flesh and blood. I crossed my heart... and from then on, I’d never let you go. I guess what I’m trying to get to is... Rainbow Dash... you are the star that shines the brightest in Luna’s vast night. You are the light to my dark, and the salt in my pepper... as your grandfather would so oddly claim. You’ll grow to see that I understand him now as much as you will. One last thing before I stop writing for the day, my love. When I set my eyes upon you, I was breathless. You were something to behold, something magnificent. My darling, you looked nothing like me! I did notice one thing, however. One thing that assured me that you were mine. One thing that I love about you, and that I shall recollect in times of distress for me. One teensy little piece of me that I can’t help but adore. There is a tint of fuchsia in those peepers, I can see it. You are going to have your mother’s eyes, Rainbow Dash... day four...Day four... They tell me that I have to rest. They tell me that I can’t see my foal, not so much as a peep, for she is resting, and I need much of the same. My energy is severely depleted. For no particular reason, and of inexplicable consequence, I feel worse than I had the previous two days. It goes without saying that this blasted cup of yogurt and this crummy slice of supposedly whole wheat bread is not nearly enough to satisfy my immaterial needs. I only want to see her. That’s it. That’s all I ask. I want to see my Rainbow Dash. If the doctors felt the urge to witness a mother on a rampage, bashing walls and slicing the serenity in the air with this plastic butter knife in my grasp, then I needed no other reason to go berserk. Well, perhaps I’m overreacting. There is no pretense for such nonsense, and it’s been, what, a couple of days? I’ll cope. However, if the nurse asks me one more time how I am feeling, I might just roll my eyes to the back of my head and spontaneously begin to spasm, just to see what they might do. To make my performance half believable, I can even foam at the mouth. Interesting, such a mess I could cause. I must be a bother to them by now, nothing more. I’m fairly positive my disgruntled disposition is what’s locking me in this room in the first place, what with their constant checking in on me, only to be turned aside without hesitation. They must think I’m hormonal. That might be a joke in itself. Contrary to whatever their belief may be, I could say that all I truly desire to do is rush back home, Dash in hoof. But, how much do I really want that? Mother told me that raising a foal is tough stuff, and knowing she raised me to be at least slightly cordial and well-mannered, I have no reason to doubt that one bit. I hate to ask for guidance... but in all honesty... I do not know what I’m doing. All mothers must say that, but that just about sums up the entirety of the truth. Of course, raising a foal requires some sort of simple sensibility, and a copious amount of patience... but there’s that one thing that all new mothers must think of, but don’t dredge to the surface for fear of being deemed unfit to be granted custody of their foal. That thought is- “Gee... I don’t wanna kill it...” Simplistic. A dark and melancholic thought, stated concisely. The point is made quite clear though. And it is true. It is so very true. It isn’t like I’ve ever taken care of a foal before. I didn’t go to a preparatory class for future mothers. I didn’t go to “foal raising school”. For whatever reason, though, I wish that such a thing existed. I’m sorry, asking for help doesn’t exactly follow my forte, but... gee... I don’t wanna kill it... My thoughts are running rampant today. I apologize for the vulgar nature in which this might be coming across, I can’t say that I’m trying for it. I suppose that it’s the sleep deprivation. I’ve stayed up every night since. Every night since my Rainbow Dash was birthed. Sleep seemed unnecessary, and for reasons currently unexplained to my brain, I figured time would fly if I could find the depravity to stay in a constant state of wake. As I’ve come to find, that was a gravely ill-minded idea. Just ask the nurses and the doctors. I was cleared to leave my hospital room a good while ago. I didn’t though. I basically denied my opportunity to leave so that I could sit in this hospital room and wait for Rainbow to come back. I’ve been a royal pain for the entire ride. The doctors are fed up with me and my antics. But the hospital bed, and this may come as a surprise, isn’t Equestria’s most enticing stay. In which case, I’ve made full use of my visit... Did you know that impersonating a doctor is some sort of heinous crime around here? Hmph. I’ll leave soon enough. If the staff has to forcefully shove me out, I will not give them a rough go of it. But not without my foal. I won’t leave without her. Otherwise, I can’t wait to hear the unanimous, exasperated sigh as I exit those hospital doors for good, the groan of the hinges as they twist behind me. The building itself might sag a bit in the humbled relief of my leave. I can’t imagine the looks on the faces of the staff as I bid them farewell, bid them a calmer tomorrow in my absence. And I can’t wait to plan my glorious return. I’m such a troublemaker, Rainbow Dash. Your mother is such a troublemaker. When you grow old, I pray that you acquire more of a taste for grace rather than the sort of brashness that characterizes your mother. I digress. I'm attempting to avoid what's really on my mind. In all honesty... I must say this- I think I’m ready to learn. I’m ready to become a mother, no matter how scared I am of this inescapable sinking feeling settled into my gut. I promise that I’m up to the challenge, Rainbow. I’m ready for you. You are going to teach me so much over the course of our many years. Though I admit that I’m afraid... I promise that I will enjoy every moment spent together with every fiber of my being and every ounce of my heart. I promise to always love you when you get in trouble. I promise to hold you when the world grows dark. I hope that you can forgive me when I perform some sort of misdeed. It is inevitable. Nopony is perfect. But we can certainly be as close to that as Celestia herself allows us. I’m not only ready to be your hero, or your savior, or your guardian, Rainbow Dash. I am ready to be so much more. And if the wind changes course and I have to seal you under my other wing, I will not hesitate to apply the transfer. Because not only am I ready to be your friend, your doctor and sometimes even your adversary... Rainbow... I am ready to be your mother. day eight...Day eight... Welcome to your new home, Rainbow Dash... It may not seem like much, I know, I apologize. I would like to give you everything, you know I would, but unfortunately, times are tough, and this is about all that I can muster. But you have a bed. You have a room. You have a roof over your head. And you have me. Perhaps the latter of those isn’t the best you could ask for, but hey, I’ll be trying here, and I’ll leave that up to you to decide just how well I’m doing. If you ever do read this, you might groan upon knowledge of the next statement. You are an adorable little foal. I’m sorry... mother speaking here, but you are. When we crossed the threshold, passed into the house for the first time... you uttered the sweetest little gasp, and you slowly let your eyelids slip close and thus fell fast asleep. Your mane of many colors fell still, and your cyan underbelly softly rose and fell in the midst of your steady breathing. You smacked your lips twice... and interrupted your own sleep with a hearty snore. You then smiled innocently in your slumber. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I took you to your room and I laid you down. The doctors told me that you would need plenty of rest, plenty of attention, and you couldn’t leave the house for the next six weeks. While that may seem like a terribly long time to stay here with you in this house, without leaving that is, I will stay with you throughout. If I were to say my social life were anything else but dead, I’d be lying through gritted teeth anyway. You are my only ray of sunshine. You are my only love. I don’t need anypony’s pity. I feel as though the future is bright, regardless of myself having to take care of her all by my lonesome. I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I certainly don’t miss... ugh... him being around. Rainbow Dash, this is for you to know (and for me to properly vent my feelings). Your father is from Las Pegasus. He is a studious, well off colt who works as a consultant for a very prominent company there. He is tall, dark, handsome... the kind of colt that makes mares want to squeal in a fangirl screech and chase him wherever he goes. I fell for him. I fell... very hard for him, head over hoof. Another thing you should know about your father. He is a corrupted, sniveling, dirt-brained fool of a pony, and he deserves nothing more than a swift kick in the flank. He chose to leave us... so now I have you all for myself. And I could not feel more lucky. I figure he just missed out. He missed out on something marvelous, something that he could be a part of. Something tells me that this isn’t the first time that he’s opted out of something so crucial to life... but that’s another story, a sad story that I can only surmise be full of terrible and insurmountable misdeeds. None of that matters, Rainbow. As you lay in your crib, constructed of only the plushest of clouds, I can’t help but think to myself that everything is going to be alright. You are so angelic, so heavenly, so perfect. I reached down to gently caress your cheek as you slept, and you nuzzled up to my touch as if you knew. I don’t know how you did, but you just knew. I smiled. My cheeks were burning from the endless curvature to my lips on this day. You were so serene and peaceful... is it odd to be jealous of your own foal? Whatever the future holds for us. I am prepared. Or at least... I would like to think so. I’m positive that she’ll throw me some sort of curveball, and I will need to adjust. But here’s the thing- We have a lifetime ahead of us. Though sometimes things may get hard, and we may just want to give up, know that we can’t. I’ll make mistakes, Celestia knows I will. Rainbow will make them as well... it’s only a part of life, I know that. But how we get past them will determine who we are as a family. One thing is for certain. With all of the time that we have left, all of the adventures we will share... It is known that I will always love her. That promise is made to myself, and it will never change. So here we are, turning a new leaf... and I could not be more grateful. day ten...Day ten... I performed the most revolting task I’d ever taken on today. She was smiling at me the whole time. She just lay there and smiled, as if mocking me, knowing that I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, and was enjoying my struggles in my feeble attempt at this. She was giggling and sighing, staring at me through those wide eyes, those eager, laughing eyes. My Rainbow Dash knew her mother was having a rough time... and she was ridiculing me in her own little adorable way. She really was my foal... Mothers, let me tell you something here. The first time that you decide to change your foal’s diaper, perhaps get a grip on just what it is you are doing. Seriously... you don’t want a riled up foal smiling and laughing at you while you decide just what to do with her ‘special delivery’. It could end very poorly, and today I learned first hoof just how ‘poorly’ it could go. So here she was, laying on her backside. I had set her down on the table, the stench overpowering, the smell wafting from her diaper and filling the air around us. She wasn’t making a fuss about it. That surprised me, as I had heard that most foals normally made a rough go of things, what with their parents handling them in such a way. I plugged my nose, and I made my first journey into the unknown, unwrapping the diaper from around her frame and letting it fall from around her hind legs. Dear Celestia... how horrid. Needless to say I was unprepared for this. I let a reluctant smile form on my lips, and I looked down and just shook my head in the sudden realization that this might be more difficult than it appeared. Now, I’m not so sure about this one, but I swear Rainbow cocked an eyebrow as I hesitated to start. It was as if she knew my own uncertainty regarding the situation, and she was waiting to see just where I was going with it. Where was I going with it? What was I doing? And oh my, what I did next was something I wish I hadn’t. Rainbow was chuckling to herself as I reached in. I almost closed my eyes, wanting my hooves to fumble around in the right spot to get the job done. I had the powder, I had the fresh diaper, I had the waste basket next to me for proper disposal, I had my nerves and a voice inside my head telling me I was about to screw up. Everything was there for me but my common sense and my wit. Cleaning her was fine, just powdered the general area (perhaps excessively) and put it back down. Then I grabbed the dirty diaper out from under her. At that point, I panicked. I acted as if a spider had come along and nestled itself into my mane, as if I had a dirty diaper in my mouth. Oh. Wait. I did. While muttering something under my breath, I gasped as the filthy diaper wiggled its way out of my jaws and dropped to the floor... dirty side down. Dash giggled and thrashed about happily on the tabletop. I stood idle with my mouth agape, kicking myself for being so careless. It was literally a hoof’s length away from the trash, I could have easily dropped it in with so much as a simple swing to the left. Unicorns have it so easy. If I had a horn, the whole predicament could have been avoided with simple telekinesis and a safe distance kept from the table. Alas, these wings did little to remedy the situation. They were adapted to flight... not changing my foal’s vile diaper. My eyes found the ceiling, and I huffed a breath of frustration. Rainbow was sucking on her hoof, drooling messily all over herself. She must have found it funny that her poor mother had screwed up. In a sense, I couldn’t blame her, as I would have found it funny as well. The thought of Rainbow behaving like me tickled my insides. How does the saying go? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? I live in Cloudsdale and the thought of that common earth pony quote scares me. I didn’t dare touch the putrid sack . Instead, I turned my intent back to the table, where I took the clean diaper and readied it to change her. Rainbow had a grin on her face, one of smugness and mockery, yet I couldn’t help but smile back at her as I put her diaper back on... inside out. I sighed, and even managed to get a healthy chortle out of my own inability to help myself. I rearranged her diaper, putting it on the correct way, folding the flaps so that it held snug onto her body. She had been a fantastically upbeat foal the whole way through. She never struggled, or tried to yank my mane off as we went. She never cried, or tried to squirm away. She must have been content to watch me mess up without her help. I picked her up afterward and told her she was cute. I then nuzzled her nose, and she laughed foalishly, grinning from ear to ear in excitement. An exuberant one, she was. I hadn’t heard a complaint in the night from her yet. She was so beautiful; she was brimming with a bright disposition and a ton of energy. She was healthy and strong. She was always happy to see me. I had succeeded in being a mother so far. When I look into her eyes, everything is just so perfect. She is so perfect. When she smiles up at me, I smile back with tears welling in my eyes, for I have never seen something more delicate and wonderful. I run a hoof through her mane, and I tell her one thing... “Mom loves you, Rainbow.” At that moment in the day, I swept her up into my hooves and did the same thing. I told her I loved her. She giggled some more and reached out for me, extending her tiny hooves to my face. I pulled her in and hugged her tightly, just wishing that I could do so for the remainder of my days, just wishing the moment would last forever. In that instant, however, a certain smell filled my nostrils. I groaned. I told her that mommy loves her, but now mommy had to clean up the mess caused by her own clumsy mouth. I set Rainbow down in her crib; which is in my room so that we would never be too far apart. When I went back out into the kitchen, I glared at the mess I had caused. I’ll save myself from writing the details. It was repulsive, and that is all... day fifteen… Day fifteen... Rainbow Dash was missing this morning. Not a good way to start off the entry, I know. Repeating it in my head makes me sound no less a terrible parent either. Now, how exactly is it that I misplaced my foal overnight? How did I manage it? She was in the crib when I went to bed, and when I woke up, she wasn’t. It provided little solace to know that it wasn’t my fault. But really, it wasn’t my fault. I woke up, and, following the routine of every morning since I brought Dash home, went over to her crib to kiss her and tell her I loved her. Imagine my surprise when I nearly wound up kissing an empty bundle of blankets. I did a double take. She wasn’t in there. So, I drew back from the crib and did what I believe most mothers would do... I panicked. Before I even knew I was doing it I was calling her name. My shouts carried through this tiny household of mine, and more than likely jumped through the walls, waking the neighbors. Not that I cared, my neighbors are a couple of scumbags, they deserved to be disturbed by my desperate screams of motherly terror. No matter how much I cried, I couldn’t hear a response in the form of Rainbow’s giggling voice or mirthful laughs. My thoughts began to take a turn for the worse. Had somepony taken her? How could somepony have gotten into my house? Why would somepony take my foal!? I ran out of my room (stumbling over a pile of dirty clothes) and into the dining room. She wasn’t in there. I turned my head to take a peek into the living room (small house), and she wasn’t in there either. Of course, my only option now was to turn over every piece of furniture in the house, toss everything aside, and inadvertently create hurdles to jump over later in my frenzied search. The house ended up in a state of total disarray. The table was flipped over, the living room recliner was overturned, every chair at the dining table was pulled out or thrown aside. In the aftermath of my romp, it looked like a frantic madpony had trashed the house, yet still no Rainbow Dash. At this point, and now I was growing desperate here, I had resorted to looking inside of cabinets and drawers. I checked the kitchen drawers, my dresser drawers; I searched every drawer that I had in the house. She wasn’t inside of any of them. I didn’t very well expect her to be. Then I looked to one of my common kitchen appliances. I felt sickened by the very thought of this, but of course... I opened the oven door. Thank Luna’s heavenly stars she wasn’t in there. The short-lived relief was quickly followed by a sense of overwhelming urgency. Rainbow Dash wasn’t anywhere in the house, and the doors and the windows had been locked. The only solution was that she had been stolen away in the middle of night. I was prepared to make a run for the police. Tears had begun to stream down the side of my face at the notion that my foal had been taken from me only two weeks after she had come into my life. And to think I had been but a wingbeat away to stop it from happening at all. Amidst my (rather hopeless) sobs, I heard a tiny snicker come from somewhere above me. I looked up to see my foal hovering just above my head, perhaps the entire time. I shrieked like the living daylights had just been juiced out of me. Rainbow merely laughed her cute little laugh and flitted across the room to the curtains by the window. I looked on in disbelief. She could fly! She could fly? I immediately raced over to the windowpane. I screamed her name, but was cut off by my falling face-first to the floor by tripping over the chair I had so stupidly thrown aside. By the time I had lifted my head, Rainbow was off and racing across the room, back to the kitchen area. I sighed. At that point in time, I recalled that I possess something that matched the mischievous nature of my excitable young foal. Those things are called wings. I dispassionately lifted myself into the air, extending my forelegs toward her in hopes that she would flutter over and fall into them. I smiled weakly and gestured for her to fly over to me. Like the rapscallion she was, she refused, and to my dismay snorted and sped off into our room. I grew frustrated as I gave chase to the cyan rocket who had so expertly dashed any thought of grabbing her. I managed a feeble smile as I entered the room with her. I was still greatly relieved that she was there. Upon entering the room, Rainbow had settled in her crib, sitting there like a good little foal. She smiled sweetly at me, her eyes twinkling. My heart instantly melted. If she’s going to do that everytime she gets herself into trouble, I might just be in trouble myself. I floated over to her, slowly, so as not to startle her in any way. She didn’t budge. I had expected her to leap up and fly away, disappear to some crevice in the recesses of the house. She only grinned and let me lift her into my hooves, beaming a smile that could make even Celestia’s sun pale in comparison. I nuzzled her lovingly in an attempt to calm my nerves and get my daily dose of Rainbow. I told her that if she ever pulled her little shenanigans again, she would wind up giving mommy a heart attack. I’m not sure if it quite got the point across... I’ll find out tomorrow morning when I wake up. Ugh, it’s past 11:00 now. As I sit here now, recovering from the day’s turmoil, I can hear Rainbow’s steady breathing from her crib. The silence of the night is only broken by her breaths. I’m beginning to feel drowsy, as they only remind me of a peaceful slumber. The dim lighting strains my eyes, and I don’t wish to adjust it for fear of waking her, so I may just stop here for the night. I told her I loved her one last time before I turned out the light, prepped for tomorrow’s venture. I might need all the sleep I can get from now on... day twenty-three… Day twenty-three... Mother stopped by today. This came as a surprise, as I had thought her to be off on vacation with Dad, at least for the next week or so. They were supposed to be in Hoofington for the entire month. They said they’d stop by and see how the foal was doing by the time the month was out. I always took Mother’s word for it, she was one of those ponies that had to be on time all the time. She was never early or late, she arrived precisely when she meant to. So the minute I opened the door, I drew back and all I could utter was- “Mom?” Rainbow was fast asleep, soundly resting in her crib at the time Mother stepped hoof through the front door. Being Mom, the first thing she told me when she came through was how much of a mess the house was, how the lighting made everything look so dreary, and how this was no place to raise a foal. I only sighed. She took tentative steps around invisible piles of dust as she crossed into the kitchen area. There, she sat her rump down on one of my ‘lumpy’ dining room chairs. Grimacing, she asked me where Rainbow was. Of course, I wasn’t about to go wake up Rainbow so that she could see her grandmother. There will be several occasions where Mother will most likely drop on by unannounced to see her. So I told her that Rainbow was sleeping and that I wasn’t about to wake her just so that she could see her. Mom only grunted and shuffled around on the chair. Same old story, really. Always a bit of the cold shoulder, and she was none too enthused with her daughter when she was told that her child had been knocked up just under a year ago now. Something else was bothering Mom, however. I saw it in her eyes. The usually stubborn, tough-loving pegasus seemed distant and out of touch. I suppose I should have thought something was wrong the second she walked through the door. They never cut vacation short. Never. There was certainly no reason for them to come home to see my foal. They were already a bit pissed that their daughter didn’t wind up marrying the father anyway (we have an old fashioned family). What could the visit have possibly meant? Why trouble herself in coming over? It was then that I realized that Dad wasn’t there at all. My mind raced back and forth on whether or not to ask Mom about Dad. He must be the reason why they are home so early, his condition must be getting considerably worse, especially seeing as how they cut the vacation almost a week short. Mother was very quiet. Apart from what she had said coming in through the doorway, she had shut up as soon as she heard that she wasn’t going to be able to hold Dash. That was bad. I didn’t want to ask, because I knew that I didn’t want to hear the answer. I had to ask, however. So I did. Mom got teary-eyed as to the questioning of the state of Father. That was a concern right there. Mom... well, she never cries. All of my life, I had seen her cry only once: that was when her dad died. Here she was, looking rather somber, the tears forming in her eyes. But she held them back. She turned away, to my room, to where Dash was sleeping. She then asked me one thing- “Can I see her?” That told me everything right there. Dad’s condition must be getting worse. I didn’t ask her anything further. I was afraid to. Instead I gulped and, incredibly, held back the tears in my eyes, leading Mom into Rainbow’s room. We stood over Rainbow’s crib, just watching her breathe, watching her live. Mom said nothing as the time flew by. We stood in silence over my Mother’s granddaughter for a very long time, perhaps an hour. I thought Rainbow would wake up. I thought Mom would at least stay until she did. No... instead Mother did something that she hadn’t done in I don’t know how many years now. Mom leaned over and hugged me. She embraced me as we looked down at the foal I thought she didn’t even approve of. After all that had happened, she still loved me. Either that, or she needed somepony. I would like to think both... so I hugged her back. “She’s beautiful.” Mom told me. I just about cried. Mom left after that. She trotted out the door, leaving me wondering, sort of leaving me in the dark. But that was Mom. That’s how Mom ticks. I’m not going to say she’s a bad parent for doing it, I still love her. That... and sometimes I think she does it to protect me. She must know how ill I know Dad is. Dad... I promise... you can be proud of what I’ve done for once. Rainbow Dash is going to be somepony you can love and cherish and buy ice cream for when I specifically tell you she can’t have any. She’s going to be somepony you can hug and read a bedtime story to when she visits the house. She’s going to be your sunshine on the darkest of days. She’s going to be the salt in your pepper as you would say, even though that phrase still makes little sense to me. You haven’t even spoiled her like I know you will yet. You have so many years to watch her grow with me. So please hang on. Dad... I’m begging you to hold on. Celestia... please watch over him... day twenty-nine… Day twenty-nine... I try not to think about him, but he’s just stuck there in the back of my mind. I should help Mom. Dad can be quite the hoofful when he’s on his medication, but I can’t afford to leave the house. Rainbow has my full attention. Just the other day, she crawled out to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out all the pots and pans. She then decided to perform her own little symphony: percussion only. This all happened at 1:00 in the morning. Otherwise, I would help. I haven’t seen Dad in such a long time. I feel terribly guilty for not taking the time out of my less than hectic schedule to pay him a visit. When I do go, it feels like I’m off on a voyage to a faraway land, like I’m off on something that happens only once in a great while. How sad is it that they never see me? I’m their child for Celestia’s sake, I really need to catch up with them more often. But I never feel I can. Mom was never the closest to me, and ever since Dad got sick, going to see them has led to... some intriguing affairs. It has just been so hard to make the trip that I’ve resorted to almost never going. Likewise, they never visit me. When this mutual agreement to stay out of each other’s manes was created, I can’t say. But I can say that my life hasn’t exactly been the best without their guidance. I was hoping that all of that would change once Rainbow entered into our lives... Perhaps not. I don’t know what to do. I need to go see them. I’m telling myself I have to go see them now. Mom came over last week; that was completely unexpected. I don’t know how bad Dad is, but seeing as how she rarely comes over, I can’t imagine it to be anything less than miserable. I suppose that I will just have to pay the visit once I can take Rainbow with me. That’s in a couple of weeks now, and I eagerly await it. In truth, I hope that Mom comes back before these next two weeks are up. I’m beginning to feel a bit depressed ever since her leave. The depressing vibe I’m giving off just might be contagious; Rainbow doesn’t seem to be her usual self, as she seems less rambunctious than normal. Yes, there was the symphony incident, but that’s about it. Other than that, she’s kept to herself, smiled whenever I’ve gone and picked her up... held her. She does make me feel better, her smile is infectious and a grin widens across my face whenever she brightens up. However, my grins are weaker, seemingly fading. Rainbow just might be noticing it... but she still tries her hardest to help out her mother. She tries her hardest to help out her mother, and at an age where she doesn’t even know what’s going on. There’s just something so... so magical about her. Oh dear. I think I hear a cough coming from the crib. She’s tossing. I should stop here so that I can check it out. Please don’t be sick, Rainbow. I can’t even handle one family member being sick at the moment. Mommy doesn’t know what she’s doing... but I’ll try my hardest for you just as you try your hardest for me. In other words, I’ll find the best doctor in Cloudsdale. day thirty-three… Day thirty-three... Rainbow Dash’s coughing cleared up after only a short while. For a while there, I was freaking out. I took her to a doctor the instant her cough persisted into the next day. I thought that foals were the most fragile of things, and that anything from the simplest of coughs to the slightest of unnatural twitches would break them. After I rushed through the doors carrying Rainbow, we had to wait a half hour for them to get around to her. As if I wasn’t ticked enough about that, the doctor told me that she had just contracted a simple virus. She just needed frequent rest and to be fed a regular diet. In other words, I needed to do exactly what I have been doing for the past month. He gave me a vial of simple medication, told me to spoon feed it to her, and to just wait and see what happens in the coming days. He also told me it was common for mothers to rush in frantically, over-concerned by their foal’s first cold. The trip cost me thirty-seven bits. Upon returning home with a saddlebag devoid of change, I set Rainbow down in her crib, one of her subtle coughs escaping through her lips before she fully laid down. The day was still young at that point, and I was about to spend the remainder of it with her. It was a rather uneventful day. Well... uneventful to anypony else that may have been there, maybe. I was concerned with every movement Rainbow made, making the time crawl by so slowly I never thought that the day would end. Every time I so much as heard her squeak I was there, bending over her crib, stroking her mane. I was thinking about Dad. I was thinking about Rainbow. I decided to do a bit of tidying up around the house today. Honestly, the house didn’t really need the attention, but it was something to do to take my mind off of other matters. Of course I also did it to please Mother, as I always listened to whatever she had to say with utmost interest (sarcasm should be detected). The kitchen appliances are now spotless, the floor immaculate, the tables and chairs clean as a whistle; I really got into it today. No chance now that Rainbow could get sick from any germs that used to linger on the floor or countertops. I’m very tired, but I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep. My eyelids are slowly drooping, but they fail to fully close, fail to let me rest. I realize that it isn’t Rainbow’s cough that’s been keeping me awake. It never truly was. Yes, I was very concerned for my foal, what mother in their right mind wouldn’t be? But in the back of my mind, the entire time, every cough reminded me of Dad. I can barely even continue to write. My mouth feels like it’s filled with an innumerable amount of pins, all pressing into my cheeks and tongue. It feels as if it’s bleeding. It’s beginning to grow numb. I’m struggling to even hold onto the quill anymore. I’m feel sick. I don’t want to admit it, but I really wish Mom were here now. Enough. I’m done for the night. I need to... I need to clean the house. day thirty-nine...Day thirty-nine... She was crying the evening before. I had only just gone to bed before I started to hear the whimpers, the gentle sobs coming from her crib. That’s why there wasn’t a post the night before. I was right beside her the entire time. I pulled up a chair next to her, and I just sat there all night, reading her a book that my Mother brought over for us. The book isn’t at all for foals, I know that much. Mom said they had a limited selection in the library. Still, reading it aloud and keeping her aware of my presence had settled her. She was sleeping soundly after two chapters of the book... Yet, I kept on reading. I feel foalish in thinking so (the book is written for fillies), but I was sucked in. Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone. I might have to pick up the entire series now. Who knew books could be so engrossing? Before my bloodshot eyes could even fully adjust and come to terms with the violent rays of glimmering light blasting through the window pane, I hadn’t a clue what was going on this morning. I had stayed up all night reading that book. My eyes were thoroughly bloodshot. When the light hit, I could only yawn and feel terribly tired. A brick wall hit me at that moment, and for the entirety of the day I had no idea what happened. It’s all a blur now. Note to myself to get a bit of sleep. For now, Rainbow is resting silently. I want to go to bed. My mind checked out hours ago, but left all of its luggage back in its room. I’m falling asleep without even knowing it. ...It’s only 7:30... Odds are, Dash will wake me for something or another. It just feels like that sort of night. I probably deserve it, too, because what kind of parent goes to bed at 7:30 while their foal is still up and at ‘em? Something aspect of parenting that actually requires talent is going to hit me full force one day, and I certainly hope I’m up to the task. She’s so quiet right now... it’s so peaceful. Her breathing comes in slow, steady breaths. I can almost feel her chest softly falling and rising from across the room. I don’t know. Maybe that’s the sleep deprivation getting to me. What’s crazy is the amount of sleep I’ve been getting before last night, though. I’ve heard so many stories about foal’s first months; how they need constant attention and scream and cry and keep you up in the middle of the night. I haven’t had any of that with Rainbow. She’s calm, cool, collected, nearly entirely independent apart from me having to change her and such. No, I’m pretty sure she could change her own diaper if she wanted to, actually. She most likely just enjoys watching her poor Mother do it for her. So I read her the book and the crying stopped. I read 240 pages worth. If I would have been told that I was going to read anything from the pages of a novel in my remaining years I would have laughed hysterically. I hadn’t read a word from a book since my years in school. That seems like such a long time ago, and even then they were only textbooks. Fate certainly had something in store for me last night, I suppose. I’m just now catching up on the things I never read in school. This comes at a price. Now I have to go out and buy the rest of the series, curse this book for reeling me in. Guess I’ll hop on down to our local library (ugh. Never thought I’d say that). I suppose if anything, I can give the series to Dash when she grows older, she might like them just like I did. Of course, that also gives me an excuse for owning them. At least they help to calm her down and fall asleep... And she’s so adorable, as if I couldn’t mention that several times over. She’s a hoofsucker. I feel the need to keep pictures of her doing it so that I may stick them in a little memory book, only to pull it out whenever her friends come over in the future. Moms will be Moms. In any sense, I think that I’m beginning to ramble, for my brains are scrambled. Now I’m starting to needlessly rhyme. I think it’s time to be a good little Mother and hit the hay. I’m feeling anxious, and why? Well, it’s a momentous occasion in three days time. Very big indeed. We get to leave the house for the first time. Six seemingly long weeks to show for it. And who do we get to go see? Dad, I think you’ll find your granddaughter to be as lovely as I think she is. So please get well soon. day forty-two… Day forty-two... Oh, Dad... The first thing I remember about this morning was waking up with a severe headache. I had the second book in the Daring Do series draped carelessly over my belly (which, I’ll admit, is feeling a bit bigger than I’d like), and I was again sitting in the chair next to Rainbow’s crib. She wasn’t awake at the time. I remember slowly rising from the chair and stumbling over to my bed, where through bleary eyes I saw the clock. I remember it reading eleven and, almost instantaneously, I remember me resorting directly to panic. We were going to be late to Mom and Dad’s. Of course, because their daughter never truly amounted to anything, they would be fine with this, and usually were. I’d apologize for all of the empty years, but I don’t know how to tell them. It’s just so hard to confront them. They still love me after everything I’ve put them through, and I don’t know why. Rainbow began to cry when I woke her. I was stupid to wake her anyway, you should never wake your foal intentionally nor unintentionally. I’m a stupid mother. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve to have such a precious bundle of life, such splendor and beauty for me and only me to take care of. I am a careless, thoughtless, and despicable being who should have done exactly what my parents told me to do when I was little, but through rebellion and egotism, never listened nor heeded their advice. I’m sorry. I’m a weeping mess. I need to write it down. I had bought a comfy little wagon for her to lie down in as we made our way over to their house. I got us both ready quickly, Dash crying throughout the entire process. I felt awful, almost obligated to stay home just one more day for her. She must have been so tired. She had quite a fitful sleep last night, now that I truly remember it. Reading Daring Do only helped to keep her asleep; she still tossed and turned all night. She tossed and turned all the way to my parent’s house. When we walked inside, the scenery of the place wasn’t at all as I remembered it when I was little. I hadn’t been over for so long. The furniture didn’t look as if it had been made out of rubber anymore. It was quite contemporary. It felt fresh, renewed, like winter had ended inside of the house and spring had ushered in a new era. But for whatever reason, and I still remember the same sensation from when I was little; the house still felt cold. Mom greeted us with a smile. She said hello and walked directly over to Dashie, hushing her, picking her up and cradling her, doing everything a grandmother would do. She asked me how Dash was doing, and I said fine. She didn’t look at me as we talked, only at Dash. She was failing to hide the fact that she had been crying, but I saw her eyes when she came walking over. That fleeting smile. Those puffy eyes. It made everything feel off. Holding Dash, mother said that she had missed me, and that she was glad I had decided to come over after an apparently dreadful seven years. Any mention of Dad was completely avoided for the time being. Instead, she told me to follow her upstairs,and so I did. I knew what we were doing as soon as we took that right turn at the top of the stairwell. I knew this place well enough to know where my room was (or used to be). I figured she’d show me everything I had missed. I figured she’d show me just how much changed after I left. I figured she’d show me how well they’ve fared in my absence. I was wrong on every level. When we entered my old room, Mom only stood in the doorway and watched, holding Dash, who had then calmed and was resting silently on her shoulder. I thought they hated me. I thought they’d want to get rid of absolutely everything that I ever held dear in this household, that my old room would be changed into a rec center, or a sewing room. I thought all of my stuff would be abandoned, thrown out on the curb or sold away for extra spending money. I thought that getting rid of me would be the best experience of their lives. But none of that was the case. My old room. My seven year old room. It was intact, exactly as I left it. Seven. Years. They loved me? I wanted to cry. And my bed. My seven year old bed, with the frilly lace and quilted patterns and fluffy pillows and ornate bed-stand... it was there. The windows had light pouring through them, illuminating all of the old posters and random trinkets littered about the floor. All of it. Like a nostalgic memory. It was there. And who was that, breathing heavily, clinging to life, resting on my bed? At that point, I did start to cry. Hard. I don’t remember trotting over to him, but in an instant, I was there. The tears were already staining the sheets, cleanly mixing in with Mom’s, that I’m sure of. I smiled a faint smile. I found it hard to even do that. He was grinning from ear to ear, which I could tell was a very difficult task for him to perform. He remembered me. After seven long years, he remembered me, his little girl. Fresh tears fell right from my face and landed close to his hoof. I clasped it tightly, his pale, fragile frame wincing with the touch, but accepting it. Whatever was eating him, it was truly eating him. I barely noticed it, but Mom had trotted up next to us, holding Dash. I saw Dad’s eyes light up as they approached him. His smile miraculously grew wider, near the point where I thought it would simply rip right off of his face. His mouth trembled for a time, and all I could do was stare. With great effort, he said only this- “She has her Mother’s eyes...” I collapsed and wept like a baby. day forty-five… Day forty-five... Hearthswarming Eve is approaching, but I just don’t think that I have the stomach to get into the festive spirit this year. There are several reasons why I refuse to decorate the house. One, Rainbow will eat the little light bulbs that’ll be strewn about the place. I can’t risk that. Two, my neighbors complain about how brilliant the wreath on the front door is... even though that’s the only thing that’s lit up on the outside of this small one bedroom one bath apartment. I let it slide because of their old age. Perhaps most importantly, however, is reason three; I refuse to decorate the house because Hearthswarming Eve just doesn’t seem so bright this year. Mom bought a few new toys for Rainbow Dash. It helps to keep her satisfied while I’m away job searching, and it keeps the foalsitter satisfied to know that she doesn’t have to deal with the stress of Dash rummaging through the pantry. The first gift was a picture book. I’ve already read it to Dashie a few times through, and it’s a much more suitable for her than those Daring Do books. The only unfortunate thing is, I miss those books. Reading a book intended for foals, guilty as charged. Maybe someday I’ll grow up. The second gift was a toy airplane. The makers assured parents that “no part of the toy could be swallowed by any foal” when they put the guarantee in big, bold letters on the box it came in. Dash seems to like it. The foalsitter tells me that she sits around and plays with it on a consistent basis. I guess that makes me like it as well. The third gift was a tranquilizer. I kid about the latter. The third gift was a new blanket. Mom had sewn it together for Dashie, just like she did for me when I was a little foal, and it was much softer than the dirty old rag we had for a blanket currently. The colors of the rainbow had been stitched into the cloth along with multiple intricate little swirling patterns that appeared to represent clouds. The majority of the cloth was the same color as Dashie’s coat. I tucked her in with it the first night I came home with it, and she almost became fully camouflaged. It was another good way for my foal to become harder to find. I find it shameful to say this, but I cried as I draped it over her. It’s just that I have nothing to repay them with, and they’re giving me presents with Hearthswarming Eve just around the corner. Plus, in Dad’s condition, I don’t know why Mom would go through all the trouble. She has her own concerns to bide her time with, screw her daughter. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand her kindness. And so, I’ll have to find a job to repay that kindness. Running on what I have left isn’t going to cut it. Moreover, I want to give Rainbow a decent first holiday, and I want to put a smile on her face. It’s just been so hard to do recently, and I really need it. I could stand to see her smile this week. Just that big, cheesy, beaming smile. I feel so... lost, without it. So please smile for me, Rainbow. Mommy could use a smile right now. day fifty-one… Day fifty-one... Mom called today to ask me how I was doing. Now, I knew my mother. She would never call me just to chat, there was always a reason. The reason here was obvious. I understand, I suppose, the stress of it all. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. In fact, I’m not even taking care of it right now and I know I’m still not able to handle it. In some ways, I think that I’m pitiful. Why? Want an update on my job search? Hasn’t changed. Want an update on Rainbow Dash? What do I know. I feel like I hardly ever see her. Want an update on myself? Want an update on my feelings? Do you even want to know anything about me, this invisible person to whom I’m writing to, this strange and imaginary apparition that will never read this? You don’t. You shouldn’t. Caring is creepy. So what’s the point? Why move on? Is it for mom? Is it for Rainbow Dash? Well, it most definitely isn’t for dad, because mom relayed the news to me from the doctor today. Celestia be damned. I hate it. It’s unfair. I don’t want to believe it, just as I don’t want to believe in anything anymore. I want it to end. I want it all to end. The life I lead is a sad one, an example that I don’t wish for my foal to follow. If mom was raising her, then I’d feel relieved. But I have to do it... and I’m just not as good as mom. I’m just not. I’m unhappy. “So sit there and cry about it!” you might say, invisible spectre. Yes. I’ll do just that. And believe you me, I’ll save some tears for you. What does it even matter? Why am I here? Do I serve some sort of special purpose, or do I live in some sort of messed up fantasy? And I realize I can’t answer those questions. So mom called me, voice cracking, voice fading, voice pleading for help. It was help that I couldn’t give to her, because I was too scared to say anything. I felt worthless. My mother, stoic as she is, sobbing to me over a phone call. It was the worst experience I’ve ever had the displeasure to sit through. And so, my imaginary friend in the room, who is reading all of my thoughts as I jot them down onto the page, I say this to you. What do you know about life? Would you know anything, though you haven’t lived it? Would you be able to console me? Would you be able to put a smile on my face despite the greatest of odds? Would you be able to keep my foal happy and healthy, safe and warm? And lastly, what does it all mean in the end? Because my dad, well, he’s dying, and not even the greatest of powers in all of Equestria can save him anymore. What would you say? What would you say to me? And would I like it? Maybe you’d only say to me one thing. Maybe you’d tell me something that you yourself could never accomplish. “Just live.” Maybe that’s what you would tell me. But I can’t pretend to know. Those words are weighted, and they sting. But I’ll do it. For you, I’ll do it. And for Rainbow Dash and mom. And for dad. When the time comes, I hope that you will be standing by my side, apparition. I’ll need an invisible hoof to hold while I cry over the casket. Mom called me today and she asked me how I was doing. I didn’t have anything to tell her, because there weren’t any words to be said. day fifty-five… Day fifty-five... Buck it. The heater stopped working, I’m sick and tired of hearing “well, you’re just not quite suited for the job”, and my Dad is dying of some incurable illness that nopony has ever heard of. Is this all there is!? Is this what I have to live for!? What more could come of the travesty that is my life!? Sometimes I wonder if it is even worth it to raise a foal at such a time... day sixty-eight… Day sixty-eight... The month has passed by so slowly that I thought this day would never come. Yet here we are. We have survived, and now our time spent together will be a memory that I will never forget for as long as I live. It’s just you and me, for the first time in a long time, sweetie. Happy Hearthswarming Eve... I’ve thrown all of the lights on. The house is swimming with colors. The patterns they paint on the ceiling and on the walls remind me of you. It is dark outside now, but inside, the sun seems to be constantly shining down on us. The neighbors will complain, but it is something that I am not worried about. I play with you as we sit on the carpet together. I am mindful of the lights that flicker and dance in your smiling eyes. It gives me a joy that I hadn’t felt in well over a month. It brings me happiness in a time when there was none. You giggle as you flip through that picture book. I have read it to you many times now, and each time, it has felt as if it were a new experience. Such joy this holiday season. Fresh, hot tears stain my cheeks. They are happy tears. You don’t notice them, but they shine quite clearly in the lights. I slide up next to you. Together, we study the picture book. We search the familiar pages as if we had never seen them before. You smile as you point at the colorful pictures. I say the words aloud, but you don’t know what they mean. It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m here with you, it doesn’t matter. The Hearthswarming tree is brighter than ever this year. It stands tall and proud, watching over us. There are gifts under the tree this year. As in plural, gifts. They are all for you. I spent the money because I could. Even if I couldn’t, I would have spent it anyway. I just want to see your golden smile. I have you all to myself tonight, Dashie. I am finally able to see you again. You see, I was worried. I didn’t think that you would remember who I was, and the thought of that was indeed a crushing feeling. It was a silly feeling, now that I think about it. But I’m a worrier. That is all I do, constantly worry. But not tonight. Tonight is a special night, it is your first Hearthswarming Eve. For the first time in ages, I found the audacity to relax. Tonight, I wear a smile for the first time in what seems like forever. It is a genuine smile, not a fake one. And just you wait and see what I got you for Hearthswarming Day this year, Dashie. It isn’t anything so special. But, to me, it is. I think you’ll love it. Heck, to be honest, you’d love it if I got you a single tube sock to play with. This is something more to me though, Rainbow. It gives me pride to say that I can give you a real Hearthswarming Day this year. To me, that is everything. You’ve tried to open them several times already, you little squirt! In fact, one of the gifts is halfway opened, I can see the ear of the stuffed elephant sticking right out. Turn my back on you for a second, and that’s what you do. Oh dear, you are so much like your mother, kid. To think that a little more than a week ago I could hardly move on. But I realize that this is what I have to live for. I may not be the best mother in Equestria, but I will try my damndest. I couldn’t wait. I let you open the gift that you seem to have taken such a liking to. You rip it open hastily and slobber all over the paper in the process. Cute, Dashie, very cute. But then, oh, when you saw it, your grin lit up the room and put these lights to shame. I clean up the paper and put it away. The day has come to an end. I turn out the lights. We go to bed. But I don’t put you in your crib just yet. No, it is just you and I, plus our special guest, the stuffed elephant that you hold so tenderly in your hooves, here in my bed. We rest together. I wait until I hear steady breathing. It takes a good while, because you had been so riled up before. But eventually, you fall asleep. Only then does a small light flutter in the darkness. I write this down to relive this day’s moments. Then I will take you to your crib and there you will rest. But not before I kiss you goodnight. I love you, Rainbow Dash. Happy Hearthswarming... day seven...Day seven... It is 9:00 in the evening, the moonlight bursts through the window pane and splatters dancing patterns on the walls, producing streaking puppets of light. The hospital is dead silent. The hallway is filled with the void of noiseless slumber, and the soothing silence of the night sky itself. I can’t discern whether the heater is running, or if there is only a humming in my head. I am silent. The world seems silent. The building may be in a stage of chaos elsewhere... but certainly not here. There is not a considerable amount to tell today. I don’t feel that I’m capable of writing much. My mouth is trembling, my mind is on edge, and my writing is hardly legible. I’ve wandered the dimmed hallways in a fit of wanderlust, superfluous thoughts and ice coursing through my mind and my veins respectively. With ease, I can say that I will not find the comfort of a good night’s sleep tonight. I’m beginning to wonder just what sort of comfort that implies at all. I knew that come this night, sleep would be a lost cause, a forgotten pleasure. Forget my mysterious dreamworld, the time spent awake in my room here is very real. Because I am to leave with Rainbow Dash tomorrow. The doctors told me the news, and, perhaps in a mixed state of confusion and merriment, I hugged them. Though they’ve more than likely despised my stay over the past week, they tentatively returned the embrace, I felt it. There’s something magical about spending company with a new mother, and who else but a doctor in the maternity ward has spent more time with us? Though I may have been out of hoof, I think that they’ll come to forgive me and ultimately get a chuckle out of a few of the things I did. Though I am terribly sorry about the vending machine. I vouch to fix that. I can’t say anything else. I’m anxious, nervous, clinging on to the few wisps of rational thought I have left... but I believe if all of those feelings were to be grouped together, it would all lead to the conversion of one word: excitement. I’m a mother I’m a mother I’m a mother I’m a mother and I’m bringing home my foal, whom I must nurture and care for and impart with my wisdom unto her. Dear sweet Celestia... please watch over us... day forty-nine… Day forty- nine... Doing this just isn’t going to cut it. The job search is a failure so far. I’m running out of the money in my account, and I have to pay for food, for the apartment, for the foalsitter etc. I like the foalsitter, and I want to keep her around because I’m definitely not going to get Mom to foalsit for me. She already has her hooves full with Dad. I don’t have any other options. Something has got to give soon. And so I tend to be out of the house more. I don’t have the time to see Dash as much as I’d like, and I don’t have the time to see Dad for the same reasons. Sometimes, I come home, and I feel like Rainbow hardly wants to see me at all. She sees the foalsitter on a consistent basis. I think I know where her loyalties lie. That, well, it saddens me. I walk into the house, and she’s laughing and giggling with the foalsitter, a mare named Wonder. When Wonder leaves, Dashie inevitably tires out. It’s apparent she isn’t an infinite ball of energy. It’s funny, because I never truly remember her ever exhausting herself during the day. Today the same story played itself out. I came home, talked to Wonder for a bit about Dash, laughed and smiled as we talked about what Dash did. Wonder read that picture book to Dash again. They played a few games. Rainbow ended up climbing all over the counter. You know. The things my lovely, rambunctious Rainbow Dash usually does. I smiled as Wonder and I talked, but I guess I didn’t really know how to feel. Sometimes I just wish that Dash would pull the pots and pans back out in the middle of the night and bash them together in a cacophony of sound. It would put a smile on my face, and it would piss the neighbors off. I like the sound of that. But Rainbow is sleeping. I’m up wandering around the apartment like a zombie. I’ve gotten to a point now where sleep is unreachable. Maybe I’ll bang the pots and pans around like a half-wit. I can’t imagine what kind of joy it would bring me, but at least it’s something to do. No. I don’t want that. Instead, I’ll most likely end up hanging over the side of her crib. I’ll most likely end up stroking her multicolored mane. I’ll most likely end up making sure she stays tucked in tight. I’ll most likely end up crying over top of her, not only for her, but for my Dad and my own pathetic situation as well. Then I’ll most likely end up getting lost in a book. I won’t be reading it. I’ll just be staring at the pages, wishing that I could get sucked into their world so I too could fight monsters and steal relics. And then, during some point in the night, I’ll most likely realize that I myself am lost. And then I’ll just sprawl out on the floor and wait for the sun to come up. Then we’ll do it all over again tomorrow. day sixty-five… Day sixty-five... Ten days. For ten days I haven’t made a single entry. A restless mind and, shall we say, “evil”, thoughts kept me from doing so. I’ve struggled to stay upbeat. I’ve struggled to climb out of bed. I’ve struggled to perform the slightest of duties or the simplest of tasks. After all of it, I found myself asking a single question... What am I truly made of? Flesh is the obvious answer. I am no god. What I am is something tangible, something that lives and breathes though, on some days, I only wish for no more air to pass through these trembling lips. Another answer is guts. It means that I possess bravado, that I am courageous, that I am stoic in the face of peril. This is the wrong answer. That is what I used to be. Now, I am simply uncertain. I feel unworthy to play a part in society’s ultimatum, and that is to function as a well-rounded citizen. After days of lounging on my bed, crying my eyes out for reasons unclear to me, I came to a rather shocking conclusion. What I am made of isn’t anything you can touch or measure. It isn’t anything that you can feel inside, or that you can very well envision. What I am made of, is hope. And so, three days ago, I shot up off of the bed I had been sulking on for a week straight. I threw on some nice clothes. I kissed Rainbow Dash on the cheek, told her I loved her, and that Mommy was about to do something about things. Then, I left. It was spur of the moment, but I phoned the foalsitter, and she was more than happy to come over and sit. I probably don’t pay her enough. I flew over to the Weather Factory. I marched in through the bulky front gate, and I demanded a job. Any job. I have never felt so empowered before in my life. One day ago, I got that job. I file papers for the Weather Factory now. It isn’t by any means exceptional pay, but it’s better than sitting on my plot all day just waiting to hear some good news that I know isn’t coming. It’s time to fix that broken heater. It’s time to pay another visit to Dad. It’s time to stand up for my sorry self. Heh, it’s snowing outside. Time to buy myself a new scarf. More importantly, it’s time to give Dashie her very first Hearthswarming. I intend for it to be memorable.
day one...The first day... She’s beautiful. I know how cliche that sounds, yadda yadda yadda. You can shove it. You can keep your meaningless and hollow words all to your thick-headed, shallow minded self. Honestly, I couldn’t care less. Because right now... right at this very moment, right here... I am whole-heartedly alive. You can laugh at me all you want, call me silly, at a loss for words, incapacitated, shell shocked. I can’t say that I would call you out on it. I can’t say that I would declare you a liar. Because it just might be true. I might just be at a complete standstill, at a junction in the road where time stops and all I would like to do is sit and stare at the wonder and the glory that is this moment. It’s a dream. It is a dream that nopony can truly understand... a sort of magic that cannot be harnessed by the unicorns or magicians this legendary land has to offer. It is a golden moment in your life, one that you shall cherish and adore until the day you perish, leave the world knowing that you achieved something worth achieving in life... becoming a mother... Put yourself in my hooves. I just went to tartarus and back to birth that foal. That beautiful, elegant, extraordinary work of nature. That wondrous, breathing, living piece of me, brought into this world for a purpose. I’m not so sure that you really have much to say about that. I’m not so sure that you could say anything about that. So yeah, maybe I’m at a loss for words. So yeah, maybe I can’t exactly place where my feelings lie right now. Sure, perhaps I don’t know what’s next, and I might be kind of scared about that. Okay, I might be scared out of my mind about that... but none of it is important right now. Because she’s here. And I’ve only had her for one day... just one day... but I already know one thing... I love her. I held you in my arms for the first time, Rainbow. I had tears trickling down my cheeks, I had doctors gaze at me and marvel at the newest wonder of the world. I had that dreadful gown draped carelessly over my body, and the lights were bright and rather harsh. Yes, all of the cliches in the world, they were all there, I know how ridiculous that sounds. But that wasn’t at all what I remembered about that day. I find it hard to believe that I even recall those trivial details. The truth is... I only remember you. How frightened you looked, how lost you looked. I remember you clinging to me, crying, for the sudden shift in the way the world looked to you must have indeed been worth making a fuss about. I hushed you. I told you that everything was going to be all right. I promised. I vowed to protect you, my angel, my precious flesh and blood. I crossed my heart... and from then on, I’d never let you go. I guess what I’m trying to get to is... Rainbow Dash... you are the star that shines the brightest in Luna’s vast night. You are the light to my dark, and the salt in my pepper... as your grandfather would so oddly claim. You’ll grow to see that I understand him now as much as you will. One last thing before I stop writing for the day, my love. When I set my eyes upon you, I was breathless. You were something to behold, something magnificent. My darling, you looked nothing like me! I did notice one thing, however. One thing that assured me that you were mine. One thing that I love about you, and that I shall recollect in times of distress for me. One teensy little piece of me that I can’t help but adore. There is a tint of fuchsia in those peepers, I can see it. You are going to have your mother’s eyes, Rainbow Dash...
day four...Day four... They tell me that I have to rest. They tell me that I can’t see my foal, not so much as a peep, for she is resting, and I need much of the same. My energy is severely depleted. For no particular reason, and of inexplicable consequence, I feel worse than I had the previous two days. It goes without saying that this blasted cup of yogurt and this crummy slice of supposedly whole wheat bread is not nearly enough to satisfy my immaterial needs. I only want to see her. That’s it. That’s all I ask. I want to see my Rainbow Dash. If the doctors felt the urge to witness a mother on a rampage, bashing walls and slicing the serenity in the air with this plastic butter knife in my grasp, then I needed no other reason to go berserk. Well, perhaps I’m overreacting. There is no pretense for such nonsense, and it’s been, what, a couple of days? I’ll cope. However, if the nurse asks me one more time how I am feeling, I might just roll my eyes to the back of my head and spontaneously begin to spasm, just to see what they might do. To make my performance half believable, I can even foam at the mouth. Interesting, such a mess I could cause. I must be a bother to them by now, nothing more. I’m fairly positive my disgruntled disposition is what’s locking me in this room in the first place, what with their constant checking in on me, only to be turned aside without hesitation. They must think I’m hormonal. That might be a joke in itself. Contrary to whatever their belief may be, I could say that all I truly desire to do is rush back home, Dash in hoof. But, how much do I really want that? Mother told me that raising a foal is tough stuff, and knowing she raised me to be at least slightly cordial and well-mannered, I have no reason to doubt that one bit. I hate to ask for guidance... but in all honesty... I do not know what I’m doing. All mothers must say that, but that just about sums up the entirety of the truth. Of course, raising a foal requires some sort of simple sensibility, and a copious amount of patience... but there’s that one thing that all new mothers must think of, but don’t dredge to the surface for fear of being deemed unfit to be granted custody of their foal. That thought is- “Gee... I don’t wanna kill it...” Simplistic. A dark and melancholic thought, stated concisely. The point is made quite clear though. And it is true. It is so very true. It isn’t like I’ve ever taken care of a foal before. I didn’t go to a preparatory class for future mothers. I didn’t go to “foal raising school”. For whatever reason, though, I wish that such a thing existed. I’m sorry, asking for help doesn’t exactly follow my forte, but... gee... I don’t wanna kill it... My thoughts are running rampant today. I apologize for the vulgar nature in which this might be coming across, I can’t say that I’m trying for it. I suppose that it’s the sleep deprivation. I’ve stayed up every night since. Every night since my Rainbow Dash was birthed. Sleep seemed unnecessary, and for reasons currently unexplained to my brain, I figured time would fly if I could find the depravity to stay in a constant state of wake. As I’ve come to find, that was a gravely ill-minded idea. Just ask the nurses and the doctors. I was cleared to leave my hospital room a good while ago. I didn’t though. I basically denied my opportunity to leave so that I could sit in this hospital room and wait for Rainbow to come back. I’ve been a royal pain for the entire ride. The doctors are fed up with me and my antics. But the hospital bed, and this may come as a surprise, isn’t Equestria’s most enticing stay. In which case, I’ve made full use of my visit... Did you know that impersonating a doctor is some sort of heinous crime around here? Hmph. I’ll leave soon enough. If the staff has to forcefully shove me out, I will not give them a rough go of it. But not without my foal. I won’t leave without her. Otherwise, I can’t wait to hear the unanimous, exasperated sigh as I exit those hospital doors for good, the groan of the hinges as they twist behind me. The building itself might sag a bit in the humbled relief of my leave. I can’t imagine the looks on the faces of the staff as I bid them farewell, bid them a calmer tomorrow in my absence. And I can’t wait to plan my glorious return. I’m such a troublemaker, Rainbow Dash. Your mother is such a troublemaker. When you grow old, I pray that you acquire more of a taste for grace rather than the sort of brashness that characterizes your mother. I digress. I'm attempting to avoid what's really on my mind. In all honesty... I must say this- I think I’m ready to learn. I’m ready to become a mother, no matter how scared I am of this inescapable sinking feeling settled into my gut. I promise that I’m up to the challenge, Rainbow. I’m ready for you. You are going to teach me so much over the course of our many years. Though I admit that I’m afraid... I promise that I will enjoy every moment spent together with every fiber of my being and every ounce of my heart. I promise to always love you when you get in trouble. I promise to hold you when the world grows dark. I hope that you can forgive me when I perform some sort of misdeed. It is inevitable. Nopony is perfect. But we can certainly be as close to that as Celestia herself allows us. I’m not only ready to be your hero, or your savior, or your guardian, Rainbow Dash. I am ready to be so much more. And if the wind changes course and I have to seal you under my other wing, I will not hesitate to apply the transfer. Because not only am I ready to be your friend, your doctor and sometimes even your adversary... Rainbow... I am ready to be your mother.
day eight...Day eight... Welcome to your new home, Rainbow Dash... It may not seem like much, I know, I apologize. I would like to give you everything, you know I would, but unfortunately, times are tough, and this is about all that I can muster. But you have a bed. You have a room. You have a roof over your head. And you have me. Perhaps the latter of those isn’t the best you could ask for, but hey, I’ll be trying here, and I’ll leave that up to you to decide just how well I’m doing. If you ever do read this, you might groan upon knowledge of the next statement. You are an adorable little foal. I’m sorry... mother speaking here, but you are. When we crossed the threshold, passed into the house for the first time... you uttered the sweetest little gasp, and you slowly let your eyelids slip close and thus fell fast asleep. Your mane of many colors fell still, and your cyan underbelly softly rose and fell in the midst of your steady breathing. You smacked your lips twice... and interrupted your own sleep with a hearty snore. You then smiled innocently in your slumber. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I took you to your room and I laid you down. The doctors told me that you would need plenty of rest, plenty of attention, and you couldn’t leave the house for the next six weeks. While that may seem like a terribly long time to stay here with you in this house, without leaving that is, I will stay with you throughout. If I were to say my social life were anything else but dead, I’d be lying through gritted teeth anyway. You are my only ray of sunshine. You are my only love. I don’t need anypony’s pity. I feel as though the future is bright, regardless of myself having to take care of her all by my lonesome. I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I certainly don’t miss... ugh... him being around. Rainbow Dash, this is for you to know (and for me to properly vent my feelings). Your father is from Las Pegasus. He is a studious, well off colt who works as a consultant for a very prominent company there. He is tall, dark, handsome... the kind of colt that makes mares want to squeal in a fangirl screech and chase him wherever he goes. I fell for him. I fell... very hard for him, head over hoof. Another thing you should know about your father. He is a corrupted, sniveling, dirt-brained fool of a pony, and he deserves nothing more than a swift kick in the flank. He chose to leave us... so now I have you all for myself. And I could not feel more lucky. I figure he just missed out. He missed out on something marvelous, something that he could be a part of. Something tells me that this isn’t the first time that he’s opted out of something so crucial to life... but that’s another story, a sad story that I can only surmise be full of terrible and insurmountable misdeeds. None of that matters, Rainbow. As you lay in your crib, constructed of only the plushest of clouds, I can’t help but think to myself that everything is going to be alright. You are so angelic, so heavenly, so perfect. I reached down to gently caress your cheek as you slept, and you nuzzled up to my touch as if you knew. I don’t know how you did, but you just knew. I smiled. My cheeks were burning from the endless curvature to my lips on this day. You were so serene and peaceful... is it odd to be jealous of your own foal? Whatever the future holds for us. I am prepared. Or at least... I would like to think so. I’m positive that she’ll throw me some sort of curveball, and I will need to adjust. But here’s the thing- We have a lifetime ahead of us. Though sometimes things may get hard, and we may just want to give up, know that we can’t. I’ll make mistakes, Celestia knows I will. Rainbow will make them as well... it’s only a part of life, I know that. But how we get past them will determine who we are as a family. One thing is for certain. With all of the time that we have left, all of the adventures we will share... It is known that I will always love her. That promise is made to myself, and it will never change. So here we are, turning a new leaf... and I could not be more grateful.
day ten...Day ten... I performed the most revolting task I’d ever taken on today. She was smiling at me the whole time. She just lay there and smiled, as if mocking me, knowing that I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, and was enjoying my struggles in my feeble attempt at this. She was giggling and sighing, staring at me through those wide eyes, those eager, laughing eyes. My Rainbow Dash knew her mother was having a rough time... and she was ridiculing me in her own little adorable way. She really was my foal... Mothers, let me tell you something here. The first time that you decide to change your foal’s diaper, perhaps get a grip on just what it is you are doing. Seriously... you don’t want a riled up foal smiling and laughing at you while you decide just what to do with her ‘special delivery’. It could end very poorly, and today I learned first hoof just how ‘poorly’ it could go. So here she was, laying on her backside. I had set her down on the table, the stench overpowering, the smell wafting from her diaper and filling the air around us. She wasn’t making a fuss about it. That surprised me, as I had heard that most foals normally made a rough go of things, what with their parents handling them in such a way. I plugged my nose, and I made my first journey into the unknown, unwrapping the diaper from around her frame and letting it fall from around her hind legs. Dear Celestia... how horrid. Needless to say I was unprepared for this. I let a reluctant smile form on my lips, and I looked down and just shook my head in the sudden realization that this might be more difficult than it appeared. Now, I’m not so sure about this one, but I swear Rainbow cocked an eyebrow as I hesitated to start. It was as if she knew my own uncertainty regarding the situation, and she was waiting to see just where I was going with it. Where was I going with it? What was I doing? And oh my, what I did next was something I wish I hadn’t. Rainbow was chuckling to herself as I reached in. I almost closed my eyes, wanting my hooves to fumble around in the right spot to get the job done. I had the powder, I had the fresh diaper, I had the waste basket next to me for proper disposal, I had my nerves and a voice inside my head telling me I was about to screw up. Everything was there for me but my common sense and my wit. Cleaning her was fine, just powdered the general area (perhaps excessively) and put it back down. Then I grabbed the dirty diaper out from under her. At that point, I panicked. I acted as if a spider had come along and nestled itself into my mane, as if I had a dirty diaper in my mouth. Oh. Wait. I did. While muttering something under my breath, I gasped as the filthy diaper wiggled its way out of my jaws and dropped to the floor... dirty side down. Dash giggled and thrashed about happily on the tabletop. I stood idle with my mouth agape, kicking myself for being so careless. It was literally a hoof’s length away from the trash, I could have easily dropped it in with so much as a simple swing to the left. Unicorns have it so easy. If I had a horn, the whole predicament could have been avoided with simple telekinesis and a safe distance kept from the table. Alas, these wings did little to remedy the situation. They were adapted to flight... not changing my foal’s vile diaper. My eyes found the ceiling, and I huffed a breath of frustration. Rainbow was sucking on her hoof, drooling messily all over herself. She must have found it funny that her poor mother had screwed up. In a sense, I couldn’t blame her, as I would have found it funny as well. The thought of Rainbow behaving like me tickled my insides. How does the saying go? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? I live in Cloudsdale and the thought of that common earth pony quote scares me. I didn’t dare touch the putrid sack . Instead, I turned my intent back to the table, where I took the clean diaper and readied it to change her. Rainbow had a grin on her face, one of smugness and mockery, yet I couldn’t help but smile back at her as I put her diaper back on... inside out. I sighed, and even managed to get a healthy chortle out of my own inability to help myself. I rearranged her diaper, putting it on the correct way, folding the flaps so that it held snug onto her body. She had been a fantastically upbeat foal the whole way through. She never struggled, or tried to yank my mane off as we went. She never cried, or tried to squirm away. She must have been content to watch me mess up without her help. I picked her up afterward and told her she was cute. I then nuzzled her nose, and she laughed foalishly, grinning from ear to ear in excitement. An exuberant one, she was. I hadn’t heard a complaint in the night from her yet. She was so beautiful; she was brimming with a bright disposition and a ton of energy. She was healthy and strong. She was always happy to see me. I had succeeded in being a mother so far. When I look into her eyes, everything is just so perfect. She is so perfect. When she smiles up at me, I smile back with tears welling in my eyes, for I have never seen something more delicate and wonderful. I run a hoof through her mane, and I tell her one thing... “Mom loves you, Rainbow.” At that moment in the day, I swept her up into my hooves and did the same thing. I told her I loved her. She giggled some more and reached out for me, extending her tiny hooves to my face. I pulled her in and hugged her tightly, just wishing that I could do so for the remainder of my days, just wishing the moment would last forever. In that instant, however, a certain smell filled my nostrils. I groaned. I told her that mommy loves her, but now mommy had to clean up the mess caused by her own clumsy mouth. I set Rainbow down in her crib; which is in my room so that we would never be too far apart. When I went back out into the kitchen, I glared at the mess I had caused. I’ll save myself from writing the details. It was repulsive, and that is all...
day fifteen… Day fifteen... Rainbow Dash was missing this morning. Not a good way to start off the entry, I know. Repeating it in my head makes me sound no less a terrible parent either. Now, how exactly is it that I misplaced my foal overnight? How did I manage it? She was in the crib when I went to bed, and when I woke up, she wasn’t. It provided little solace to know that it wasn’t my fault. But really, it wasn’t my fault. I woke up, and, following the routine of every morning since I brought Dash home, went over to her crib to kiss her and tell her I loved her. Imagine my surprise when I nearly wound up kissing an empty bundle of blankets. I did a double take. She wasn’t in there. So, I drew back from the crib and did what I believe most mothers would do... I panicked. Before I even knew I was doing it I was calling her name. My shouts carried through this tiny household of mine, and more than likely jumped through the walls, waking the neighbors. Not that I cared, my neighbors are a couple of scumbags, they deserved to be disturbed by my desperate screams of motherly terror. No matter how much I cried, I couldn’t hear a response in the form of Rainbow’s giggling voice or mirthful laughs. My thoughts began to take a turn for the worse. Had somepony taken her? How could somepony have gotten into my house? Why would somepony take my foal!? I ran out of my room (stumbling over a pile of dirty clothes) and into the dining room. She wasn’t in there. I turned my head to take a peek into the living room (small house), and she wasn’t in there either. Of course, my only option now was to turn over every piece of furniture in the house, toss everything aside, and inadvertently create hurdles to jump over later in my frenzied search. The house ended up in a state of total disarray. The table was flipped over, the living room recliner was overturned, every chair at the dining table was pulled out or thrown aside. In the aftermath of my romp, it looked like a frantic madpony had trashed the house, yet still no Rainbow Dash. At this point, and now I was growing desperate here, I had resorted to looking inside of cabinets and drawers. I checked the kitchen drawers, my dresser drawers; I searched every drawer that I had in the house. She wasn’t inside of any of them. I didn’t very well expect her to be. Then I looked to one of my common kitchen appliances. I felt sickened by the very thought of this, but of course... I opened the oven door. Thank Luna’s heavenly stars she wasn’t in there. The short-lived relief was quickly followed by a sense of overwhelming urgency. Rainbow Dash wasn’t anywhere in the house, and the doors and the windows had been locked. The only solution was that she had been stolen away in the middle of night. I was prepared to make a run for the police. Tears had begun to stream down the side of my face at the notion that my foal had been taken from me only two weeks after she had come into my life. And to think I had been but a wingbeat away to stop it from happening at all. Amidst my (rather hopeless) sobs, I heard a tiny snicker come from somewhere above me. I looked up to see my foal hovering just above my head, perhaps the entire time. I shrieked like the living daylights had just been juiced out of me. Rainbow merely laughed her cute little laugh and flitted across the room to the curtains by the window. I looked on in disbelief. She could fly! She could fly? I immediately raced over to the windowpane. I screamed her name, but was cut off by my falling face-first to the floor by tripping over the chair I had so stupidly thrown aside. By the time I had lifted my head, Rainbow was off and racing across the room, back to the kitchen area. I sighed. At that point in time, I recalled that I possess something that matched the mischievous nature of my excitable young foal. Those things are called wings. I dispassionately lifted myself into the air, extending my forelegs toward her in hopes that she would flutter over and fall into them. I smiled weakly and gestured for her to fly over to me. Like the rapscallion she was, she refused, and to my dismay snorted and sped off into our room. I grew frustrated as I gave chase to the cyan rocket who had so expertly dashed any thought of grabbing her. I managed a feeble smile as I entered the room with her. I was still greatly relieved that she was there. Upon entering the room, Rainbow had settled in her crib, sitting there like a good little foal. She smiled sweetly at me, her eyes twinkling. My heart instantly melted. If she’s going to do that everytime she gets herself into trouble, I might just be in trouble myself. I floated over to her, slowly, so as not to startle her in any way. She didn’t budge. I had expected her to leap up and fly away, disappear to some crevice in the recesses of the house. She only grinned and let me lift her into my hooves, beaming a smile that could make even Celestia’s sun pale in comparison. I nuzzled her lovingly in an attempt to calm my nerves and get my daily dose of Rainbow. I told her that if she ever pulled her little shenanigans again, she would wind up giving mommy a heart attack. I’m not sure if it quite got the point across... I’ll find out tomorrow morning when I wake up. Ugh, it’s past 11:00 now. As I sit here now, recovering from the day’s turmoil, I can hear Rainbow’s steady breathing from her crib. The silence of the night is only broken by her breaths. I’m beginning to feel drowsy, as they only remind me of a peaceful slumber. The dim lighting strains my eyes, and I don’t wish to adjust it for fear of waking her, so I may just stop here for the night. I told her I loved her one last time before I turned out the light, prepped for tomorrow’s venture. I might need all the sleep I can get from now on...
day twenty-three… Day twenty-three... Mother stopped by today. This came as a surprise, as I had thought her to be off on vacation with Dad, at least for the next week or so. They were supposed to be in Hoofington for the entire month. They said they’d stop by and see how the foal was doing by the time the month was out. I always took Mother’s word for it, she was one of those ponies that had to be on time all the time. She was never early or late, she arrived precisely when she meant to. So the minute I opened the door, I drew back and all I could utter was- “Mom?” Rainbow was fast asleep, soundly resting in her crib at the time Mother stepped hoof through the front door. Being Mom, the first thing she told me when she came through was how much of a mess the house was, how the lighting made everything look so dreary, and how this was no place to raise a foal. I only sighed. She took tentative steps around invisible piles of dust as she crossed into the kitchen area. There, she sat her rump down on one of my ‘lumpy’ dining room chairs. Grimacing, she asked me where Rainbow was. Of course, I wasn’t about to go wake up Rainbow so that she could see her grandmother. There will be several occasions where Mother will most likely drop on by unannounced to see her. So I told her that Rainbow was sleeping and that I wasn’t about to wake her just so that she could see her. Mom only grunted and shuffled around on the chair. Same old story, really. Always a bit of the cold shoulder, and she was none too enthused with her daughter when she was told that her child had been knocked up just under a year ago now. Something else was bothering Mom, however. I saw it in her eyes. The usually stubborn, tough-loving pegasus seemed distant and out of touch. I suppose I should have thought something was wrong the second she walked through the door. They never cut vacation short. Never. There was certainly no reason for them to come home to see my foal. They were already a bit pissed that their daughter didn’t wind up marrying the father anyway (we have an old fashioned family). What could the visit have possibly meant? Why trouble herself in coming over? It was then that I realized that Dad wasn’t there at all. My mind raced back and forth on whether or not to ask Mom about Dad. He must be the reason why they are home so early, his condition must be getting considerably worse, especially seeing as how they cut the vacation almost a week short. Mother was very quiet. Apart from what she had said coming in through the doorway, she had shut up as soon as she heard that she wasn’t going to be able to hold Dash. That was bad. I didn’t want to ask, because I knew that I didn’t want to hear the answer. I had to ask, however. So I did. Mom got teary-eyed as to the questioning of the state of Father. That was a concern right there. Mom... well, she never cries. All of my life, I had seen her cry only once: that was when her dad died. Here she was, looking rather somber, the tears forming in her eyes. But she held them back. She turned away, to my room, to where Dash was sleeping. She then asked me one thing- “Can I see her?” That told me everything right there. Dad’s condition must be getting worse. I didn’t ask her anything further. I was afraid to. Instead I gulped and, incredibly, held back the tears in my eyes, leading Mom into Rainbow’s room. We stood over Rainbow’s crib, just watching her breathe, watching her live. Mom said nothing as the time flew by. We stood in silence over my Mother’s granddaughter for a very long time, perhaps an hour. I thought Rainbow would wake up. I thought Mom would at least stay until she did. No... instead Mother did something that she hadn’t done in I don’t know how many years now. Mom leaned over and hugged me. She embraced me as we looked down at the foal I thought she didn’t even approve of. After all that had happened, she still loved me. Either that, or she needed somepony. I would like to think both... so I hugged her back. “She’s beautiful.” Mom told me. I just about cried. Mom left after that. She trotted out the door, leaving me wondering, sort of leaving me in the dark. But that was Mom. That’s how Mom ticks. I’m not going to say she’s a bad parent for doing it, I still love her. That... and sometimes I think she does it to protect me. She must know how ill I know Dad is. Dad... I promise... you can be proud of what I’ve done for once. Rainbow Dash is going to be somepony you can love and cherish and buy ice cream for when I specifically tell you she can’t have any. She’s going to be somepony you can hug and read a bedtime story to when she visits the house. She’s going to be your sunshine on the darkest of days. She’s going to be the salt in your pepper as you would say, even though that phrase still makes little sense to me. You haven’t even spoiled her like I know you will yet. You have so many years to watch her grow with me. So please hang on. Dad... I’m begging you to hold on. Celestia... please watch over him...
day twenty-nine… Day twenty-nine... I try not to think about him, but he’s just stuck there in the back of my mind. I should help Mom. Dad can be quite the hoofful when he’s on his medication, but I can’t afford to leave the house. Rainbow has my full attention. Just the other day, she crawled out to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out all the pots and pans. She then decided to perform her own little symphony: percussion only. This all happened at 1:00 in the morning. Otherwise, I would help. I haven’t seen Dad in such a long time. I feel terribly guilty for not taking the time out of my less than hectic schedule to pay him a visit. When I do go, it feels like I’m off on a voyage to a faraway land, like I’m off on something that happens only once in a great while. How sad is it that they never see me? I’m their child for Celestia’s sake, I really need to catch up with them more often. But I never feel I can. Mom was never the closest to me, and ever since Dad got sick, going to see them has led to... some intriguing affairs. It has just been so hard to make the trip that I’ve resorted to almost never going. Likewise, they never visit me. When this mutual agreement to stay out of each other’s manes was created, I can’t say. But I can say that my life hasn’t exactly been the best without their guidance. I was hoping that all of that would change once Rainbow entered into our lives... Perhaps not. I don’t know what to do. I need to go see them. I’m telling myself I have to go see them now. Mom came over last week; that was completely unexpected. I don’t know how bad Dad is, but seeing as how she rarely comes over, I can’t imagine it to be anything less than miserable. I suppose that I will just have to pay the visit once I can take Rainbow with me. That’s in a couple of weeks now, and I eagerly await it. In truth, I hope that Mom comes back before these next two weeks are up. I’m beginning to feel a bit depressed ever since her leave. The depressing vibe I’m giving off just might be contagious; Rainbow doesn’t seem to be her usual self, as she seems less rambunctious than normal. Yes, there was the symphony incident, but that’s about it. Other than that, she’s kept to herself, smiled whenever I’ve gone and picked her up... held her. She does make me feel better, her smile is infectious and a grin widens across my face whenever she brightens up. However, my grins are weaker, seemingly fading. Rainbow just might be noticing it... but she still tries her hardest to help out her mother. She tries her hardest to help out her mother, and at an age where she doesn’t even know what’s going on. There’s just something so... so magical about her. Oh dear. I think I hear a cough coming from the crib. She’s tossing. I should stop here so that I can check it out. Please don’t be sick, Rainbow. I can’t even handle one family member being sick at the moment. Mommy doesn’t know what she’s doing... but I’ll try my hardest for you just as you try your hardest for me. In other words, I’ll find the best doctor in Cloudsdale.
day thirty-three… Day thirty-three... Rainbow Dash’s coughing cleared up after only a short while. For a while there, I was freaking out. I took her to a doctor the instant her cough persisted into the next day. I thought that foals were the most fragile of things, and that anything from the simplest of coughs to the slightest of unnatural twitches would break them. After I rushed through the doors carrying Rainbow, we had to wait a half hour for them to get around to her. As if I wasn’t ticked enough about that, the doctor told me that she had just contracted a simple virus. She just needed frequent rest and to be fed a regular diet. In other words, I needed to do exactly what I have been doing for the past month. He gave me a vial of simple medication, told me to spoon feed it to her, and to just wait and see what happens in the coming days. He also told me it was common for mothers to rush in frantically, over-concerned by their foal’s first cold. The trip cost me thirty-seven bits. Upon returning home with a saddlebag devoid of change, I set Rainbow down in her crib, one of her subtle coughs escaping through her lips before she fully laid down. The day was still young at that point, and I was about to spend the remainder of it with her. It was a rather uneventful day. Well... uneventful to anypony else that may have been there, maybe. I was concerned with every movement Rainbow made, making the time crawl by so slowly I never thought that the day would end. Every time I so much as heard her squeak I was there, bending over her crib, stroking her mane. I was thinking about Dad. I was thinking about Rainbow. I decided to do a bit of tidying up around the house today. Honestly, the house didn’t really need the attention, but it was something to do to take my mind off of other matters. Of course I also did it to please Mother, as I always listened to whatever she had to say with utmost interest (sarcasm should be detected). The kitchen appliances are now spotless, the floor immaculate, the tables and chairs clean as a whistle; I really got into it today. No chance now that Rainbow could get sick from any germs that used to linger on the floor or countertops. I’m very tired, but I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep. My eyelids are slowly drooping, but they fail to fully close, fail to let me rest. I realize that it isn’t Rainbow’s cough that’s been keeping me awake. It never truly was. Yes, I was very concerned for my foal, what mother in their right mind wouldn’t be? But in the back of my mind, the entire time, every cough reminded me of Dad. I can barely even continue to write. My mouth feels like it’s filled with an innumerable amount of pins, all pressing into my cheeks and tongue. It feels as if it’s bleeding. It’s beginning to grow numb. I’m struggling to even hold onto the quill anymore. I’m feel sick. I don’t want to admit it, but I really wish Mom were here now. Enough. I’m done for the night. I need to... I need to clean the house.
day thirty-nine...Day thirty-nine... She was crying the evening before. I had only just gone to bed before I started to hear the whimpers, the gentle sobs coming from her crib. That’s why there wasn’t a post the night before. I was right beside her the entire time. I pulled up a chair next to her, and I just sat there all night, reading her a book that my Mother brought over for us. The book isn’t at all for foals, I know that much. Mom said they had a limited selection in the library. Still, reading it aloud and keeping her aware of my presence had settled her. She was sleeping soundly after two chapters of the book... Yet, I kept on reading. I feel foalish in thinking so (the book is written for fillies), but I was sucked in. Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone. I might have to pick up the entire series now. Who knew books could be so engrossing? Before my bloodshot eyes could even fully adjust and come to terms with the violent rays of glimmering light blasting through the window pane, I hadn’t a clue what was going on this morning. I had stayed up all night reading that book. My eyes were thoroughly bloodshot. When the light hit, I could only yawn and feel terribly tired. A brick wall hit me at that moment, and for the entirety of the day I had no idea what happened. It’s all a blur now. Note to myself to get a bit of sleep. For now, Rainbow is resting silently. I want to go to bed. My mind checked out hours ago, but left all of its luggage back in its room. I’m falling asleep without even knowing it. ...It’s only 7:30... Odds are, Dash will wake me for something or another. It just feels like that sort of night. I probably deserve it, too, because what kind of parent goes to bed at 7:30 while their foal is still up and at ‘em? Something aspect of parenting that actually requires talent is going to hit me full force one day, and I certainly hope I’m up to the task. She’s so quiet right now... it’s so peaceful. Her breathing comes in slow, steady breaths. I can almost feel her chest softly falling and rising from across the room. I don’t know. Maybe that’s the sleep deprivation getting to me. What’s crazy is the amount of sleep I’ve been getting before last night, though. I’ve heard so many stories about foal’s first months; how they need constant attention and scream and cry and keep you up in the middle of the night. I haven’t had any of that with Rainbow. She’s calm, cool, collected, nearly entirely independent apart from me having to change her and such. No, I’m pretty sure she could change her own diaper if she wanted to, actually. She most likely just enjoys watching her poor Mother do it for her. So I read her the book and the crying stopped. I read 240 pages worth. If I would have been told that I was going to read anything from the pages of a novel in my remaining years I would have laughed hysterically. I hadn’t read a word from a book since my years in school. That seems like such a long time ago, and even then they were only textbooks. Fate certainly had something in store for me last night, I suppose. I’m just now catching up on the things I never read in school. This comes at a price. Now I have to go out and buy the rest of the series, curse this book for reeling me in. Guess I’ll hop on down to our local library (ugh. Never thought I’d say that). I suppose if anything, I can give the series to Dash when she grows older, she might like them just like I did. Of course, that also gives me an excuse for owning them. At least they help to calm her down and fall asleep... And she’s so adorable, as if I couldn’t mention that several times over. She’s a hoofsucker. I feel the need to keep pictures of her doing it so that I may stick them in a little memory book, only to pull it out whenever her friends come over in the future. Moms will be Moms. In any sense, I think that I’m beginning to ramble, for my brains are scrambled. Now I’m starting to needlessly rhyme. I think it’s time to be a good little Mother and hit the hay. I’m feeling anxious, and why? Well, it’s a momentous occasion in three days time. Very big indeed. We get to leave the house for the first time. Six seemingly long weeks to show for it. And who do we get to go see? Dad, I think you’ll find your granddaughter to be as lovely as I think she is. So please get well soon.
day forty-two… Day forty-two... Oh, Dad... The first thing I remember about this morning was waking up with a severe headache. I had the second book in the Daring Do series draped carelessly over my belly (which, I’ll admit, is feeling a bit bigger than I’d like), and I was again sitting in the chair next to Rainbow’s crib. She wasn’t awake at the time. I remember slowly rising from the chair and stumbling over to my bed, where through bleary eyes I saw the clock. I remember it reading eleven and, almost instantaneously, I remember me resorting directly to panic. We were going to be late to Mom and Dad’s. Of course, because their daughter never truly amounted to anything, they would be fine with this, and usually were. I’d apologize for all of the empty years, but I don’t know how to tell them. It’s just so hard to confront them. They still love me after everything I’ve put them through, and I don’t know why. Rainbow began to cry when I woke her. I was stupid to wake her anyway, you should never wake your foal intentionally nor unintentionally. I’m a stupid mother. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve to have such a precious bundle of life, such splendor and beauty for me and only me to take care of. I am a careless, thoughtless, and despicable being who should have done exactly what my parents told me to do when I was little, but through rebellion and egotism, never listened nor heeded their advice. I’m sorry. I’m a weeping mess. I need to write it down. I had bought a comfy little wagon for her to lie down in as we made our way over to their house. I got us both ready quickly, Dash crying throughout the entire process. I felt awful, almost obligated to stay home just one more day for her. She must have been so tired. She had quite a fitful sleep last night, now that I truly remember it. Reading Daring Do only helped to keep her asleep; she still tossed and turned all night. She tossed and turned all the way to my parent’s house. When we walked inside, the scenery of the place wasn’t at all as I remembered it when I was little. I hadn’t been over for so long. The furniture didn’t look as if it had been made out of rubber anymore. It was quite contemporary. It felt fresh, renewed, like winter had ended inside of the house and spring had ushered in a new era. But for whatever reason, and I still remember the same sensation from when I was little; the house still felt cold. Mom greeted us with a smile. She said hello and walked directly over to Dashie, hushing her, picking her up and cradling her, doing everything a grandmother would do. She asked me how Dash was doing, and I said fine. She didn’t look at me as we talked, only at Dash. She was failing to hide the fact that she had been crying, but I saw her eyes when she came walking over. That fleeting smile. Those puffy eyes. It made everything feel off. Holding Dash, mother said that she had missed me, and that she was glad I had decided to come over after an apparently dreadful seven years. Any mention of Dad was completely avoided for the time being. Instead, she told me to follow her upstairs,and so I did. I knew what we were doing as soon as we took that right turn at the top of the stairwell. I knew this place well enough to know where my room was (or used to be). I figured she’d show me everything I had missed. I figured she’d show me just how much changed after I left. I figured she’d show me how well they’ve fared in my absence. I was wrong on every level. When we entered my old room, Mom only stood in the doorway and watched, holding Dash, who had then calmed and was resting silently on her shoulder. I thought they hated me. I thought they’d want to get rid of absolutely everything that I ever held dear in this household, that my old room would be changed into a rec center, or a sewing room. I thought all of my stuff would be abandoned, thrown out on the curb or sold away for extra spending money. I thought that getting rid of me would be the best experience of their lives. But none of that was the case. My old room. My seven year old room. It was intact, exactly as I left it. Seven. Years. They loved me? I wanted to cry. And my bed. My seven year old bed, with the frilly lace and quilted patterns and fluffy pillows and ornate bed-stand... it was there. The windows had light pouring through them, illuminating all of the old posters and random trinkets littered about the floor. All of it. Like a nostalgic memory. It was there. And who was that, breathing heavily, clinging to life, resting on my bed? At that point, I did start to cry. Hard. I don’t remember trotting over to him, but in an instant, I was there. The tears were already staining the sheets, cleanly mixing in with Mom’s, that I’m sure of. I smiled a faint smile. I found it hard to even do that. He was grinning from ear to ear, which I could tell was a very difficult task for him to perform. He remembered me. After seven long years, he remembered me, his little girl. Fresh tears fell right from my face and landed close to his hoof. I clasped it tightly, his pale, fragile frame wincing with the touch, but accepting it. Whatever was eating him, it was truly eating him. I barely noticed it, but Mom had trotted up next to us, holding Dash. I saw Dad’s eyes light up as they approached him. His smile miraculously grew wider, near the point where I thought it would simply rip right off of his face. His mouth trembled for a time, and all I could do was stare. With great effort, he said only this- “She has her Mother’s eyes...” I collapsed and wept like a baby.
day forty-five… Day forty-five... Hearthswarming Eve is approaching, but I just don’t think that I have the stomach to get into the festive spirit this year. There are several reasons why I refuse to decorate the house. One, Rainbow will eat the little light bulbs that’ll be strewn about the place. I can’t risk that. Two, my neighbors complain about how brilliant the wreath on the front door is... even though that’s the only thing that’s lit up on the outside of this small one bedroom one bath apartment. I let it slide because of their old age. Perhaps most importantly, however, is reason three; I refuse to decorate the house because Hearthswarming Eve just doesn’t seem so bright this year. Mom bought a few new toys for Rainbow Dash. It helps to keep her satisfied while I’m away job searching, and it keeps the foalsitter satisfied to know that she doesn’t have to deal with the stress of Dash rummaging through the pantry. The first gift was a picture book. I’ve already read it to Dashie a few times through, and it’s a much more suitable for her than those Daring Do books. The only unfortunate thing is, I miss those books. Reading a book intended for foals, guilty as charged. Maybe someday I’ll grow up. The second gift was a toy airplane. The makers assured parents that “no part of the toy could be swallowed by any foal” when they put the guarantee in big, bold letters on the box it came in. Dash seems to like it. The foalsitter tells me that she sits around and plays with it on a consistent basis. I guess that makes me like it as well. The third gift was a tranquilizer. I kid about the latter. The third gift was a new blanket. Mom had sewn it together for Dashie, just like she did for me when I was a little foal, and it was much softer than the dirty old rag we had for a blanket currently. The colors of the rainbow had been stitched into the cloth along with multiple intricate little swirling patterns that appeared to represent clouds. The majority of the cloth was the same color as Dashie’s coat. I tucked her in with it the first night I came home with it, and she almost became fully camouflaged. It was another good way for my foal to become harder to find. I find it shameful to say this, but I cried as I draped it over her. It’s just that I have nothing to repay them with, and they’re giving me presents with Hearthswarming Eve just around the corner. Plus, in Dad’s condition, I don’t know why Mom would go through all the trouble. She has her own concerns to bide her time with, screw her daughter. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand her kindness. And so, I’ll have to find a job to repay that kindness. Running on what I have left isn’t going to cut it. Moreover, I want to give Rainbow a decent first holiday, and I want to put a smile on her face. It’s just been so hard to do recently, and I really need it. I could stand to see her smile this week. Just that big, cheesy, beaming smile. I feel so... lost, without it. So please smile for me, Rainbow. Mommy could use a smile right now.
day fifty-one… Day fifty-one... Mom called today to ask me how I was doing. Now, I knew my mother. She would never call me just to chat, there was always a reason. The reason here was obvious. I understand, I suppose, the stress of it all. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. In fact, I’m not even taking care of it right now and I know I’m still not able to handle it. In some ways, I think that I’m pitiful. Why? Want an update on my job search? Hasn’t changed. Want an update on Rainbow Dash? What do I know. I feel like I hardly ever see her. Want an update on myself? Want an update on my feelings? Do you even want to know anything about me, this invisible person to whom I’m writing to, this strange and imaginary apparition that will never read this? You don’t. You shouldn’t. Caring is creepy. So what’s the point? Why move on? Is it for mom? Is it for Rainbow Dash? Well, it most definitely isn’t for dad, because mom relayed the news to me from the doctor today. Celestia be damned. I hate it. It’s unfair. I don’t want to believe it, just as I don’t want to believe in anything anymore. I want it to end. I want it all to end. The life I lead is a sad one, an example that I don’t wish for my foal to follow. If mom was raising her, then I’d feel relieved. But I have to do it... and I’m just not as good as mom. I’m just not. I’m unhappy. “So sit there and cry about it!” you might say, invisible spectre. Yes. I’ll do just that. And believe you me, I’ll save some tears for you. What does it even matter? Why am I here? Do I serve some sort of special purpose, or do I live in some sort of messed up fantasy? And I realize I can’t answer those questions. So mom called me, voice cracking, voice fading, voice pleading for help. It was help that I couldn’t give to her, because I was too scared to say anything. I felt worthless. My mother, stoic as she is, sobbing to me over a phone call. It was the worst experience I’ve ever had the displeasure to sit through. And so, my imaginary friend in the room, who is reading all of my thoughts as I jot them down onto the page, I say this to you. What do you know about life? Would you know anything, though you haven’t lived it? Would you be able to console me? Would you be able to put a smile on my face despite the greatest of odds? Would you be able to keep my foal happy and healthy, safe and warm? And lastly, what does it all mean in the end? Because my dad, well, he’s dying, and not even the greatest of powers in all of Equestria can save him anymore. What would you say? What would you say to me? And would I like it? Maybe you’d only say to me one thing. Maybe you’d tell me something that you yourself could never accomplish. “Just live.” Maybe that’s what you would tell me. But I can’t pretend to know. Those words are weighted, and they sting. But I’ll do it. For you, I’ll do it. And for Rainbow Dash and mom. And for dad. When the time comes, I hope that you will be standing by my side, apparition. I’ll need an invisible hoof to hold while I cry over the casket. Mom called me today and she asked me how I was doing. I didn’t have anything to tell her, because there weren’t any words to be said.
day fifty-five… Day fifty-five... Buck it. The heater stopped working, I’m sick and tired of hearing “well, you’re just not quite suited for the job”, and my Dad is dying of some incurable illness that nopony has ever heard of. Is this all there is!? Is this what I have to live for!? What more could come of the travesty that is my life!? Sometimes I wonder if it is even worth it to raise a foal at such a time...
day sixty-eight… Day sixty-eight... The month has passed by so slowly that I thought this day would never come. Yet here we are. We have survived, and now our time spent together will be a memory that I will never forget for as long as I live. It’s just you and me, for the first time in a long time, sweetie. Happy Hearthswarming Eve... I’ve thrown all of the lights on. The house is swimming with colors. The patterns they paint on the ceiling and on the walls remind me of you. It is dark outside now, but inside, the sun seems to be constantly shining down on us. The neighbors will complain, but it is something that I am not worried about. I play with you as we sit on the carpet together. I am mindful of the lights that flicker and dance in your smiling eyes. It gives me a joy that I hadn’t felt in well over a month. It brings me happiness in a time when there was none. You giggle as you flip through that picture book. I have read it to you many times now, and each time, it has felt as if it were a new experience. Such joy this holiday season. Fresh, hot tears stain my cheeks. They are happy tears. You don’t notice them, but they shine quite clearly in the lights. I slide up next to you. Together, we study the picture book. We search the familiar pages as if we had never seen them before. You smile as you point at the colorful pictures. I say the words aloud, but you don’t know what they mean. It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m here with you, it doesn’t matter. The Hearthswarming tree is brighter than ever this year. It stands tall and proud, watching over us. There are gifts under the tree this year. As in plural, gifts. They are all for you. I spent the money because I could. Even if I couldn’t, I would have spent it anyway. I just want to see your golden smile. I have you all to myself tonight, Dashie. I am finally able to see you again. You see, I was worried. I didn’t think that you would remember who I was, and the thought of that was indeed a crushing feeling. It was a silly feeling, now that I think about it. But I’m a worrier. That is all I do, constantly worry. But not tonight. Tonight is a special night, it is your first Hearthswarming Eve. For the first time in ages, I found the audacity to relax. Tonight, I wear a smile for the first time in what seems like forever. It is a genuine smile, not a fake one. And just you wait and see what I got you for Hearthswarming Day this year, Dashie. It isn’t anything so special. But, to me, it is. I think you’ll love it. Heck, to be honest, you’d love it if I got you a single tube sock to play with. This is something more to me though, Rainbow. It gives me pride to say that I can give you a real Hearthswarming Day this year. To me, that is everything. You’ve tried to open them several times already, you little squirt! In fact, one of the gifts is halfway opened, I can see the ear of the stuffed elephant sticking right out. Turn my back on you for a second, and that’s what you do. Oh dear, you are so much like your mother, kid. To think that a little more than a week ago I could hardly move on. But I realize that this is what I have to live for. I may not be the best mother in Equestria, but I will try my damndest. I couldn’t wait. I let you open the gift that you seem to have taken such a liking to. You rip it open hastily and slobber all over the paper in the process. Cute, Dashie, very cute. But then, oh, when you saw it, your grin lit up the room and put these lights to shame. I clean up the paper and put it away. The day has come to an end. I turn out the lights. We go to bed. But I don’t put you in your crib just yet. No, it is just you and I, plus our special guest, the stuffed elephant that you hold so tenderly in your hooves, here in my bed. We rest together. I wait until I hear steady breathing. It takes a good while, because you had been so riled up before. But eventually, you fall asleep. Only then does a small light flutter in the darkness. I write this down to relive this day’s moments. Then I will take you to your crib and there you will rest. But not before I kiss you goodnight. I love you, Rainbow Dash. Happy Hearthswarming...
day seven...Day seven... It is 9:00 in the evening, the moonlight bursts through the window pane and splatters dancing patterns on the walls, producing streaking puppets of light. The hospital is dead silent. The hallway is filled with the void of noiseless slumber, and the soothing silence of the night sky itself. I can’t discern whether the heater is running, or if there is only a humming in my head. I am silent. The world seems silent. The building may be in a stage of chaos elsewhere... but certainly not here. There is not a considerable amount to tell today. I don’t feel that I’m capable of writing much. My mouth is trembling, my mind is on edge, and my writing is hardly legible. I’ve wandered the dimmed hallways in a fit of wanderlust, superfluous thoughts and ice coursing through my mind and my veins respectively. With ease, I can say that I will not find the comfort of a good night’s sleep tonight. I’m beginning to wonder just what sort of comfort that implies at all. I knew that come this night, sleep would be a lost cause, a forgotten pleasure. Forget my mysterious dreamworld, the time spent awake in my room here is very real. Because I am to leave with Rainbow Dash tomorrow. The doctors told me the news, and, perhaps in a mixed state of confusion and merriment, I hugged them. Though they’ve more than likely despised my stay over the past week, they tentatively returned the embrace, I felt it. There’s something magical about spending company with a new mother, and who else but a doctor in the maternity ward has spent more time with us? Though I may have been out of hoof, I think that they’ll come to forgive me and ultimately get a chuckle out of a few of the things I did. Though I am terribly sorry about the vending machine. I vouch to fix that. I can’t say anything else. I’m anxious, nervous, clinging on to the few wisps of rational thought I have left... but I believe if all of those feelings were to be grouped together, it would all lead to the conversion of one word: excitement. I’m a mother I’m a mother I’m a mother I’m a mother and I’m bringing home my foal, whom I must nurture and care for and impart with my wisdom unto her. Dear sweet Celestia... please watch over us...
day forty-nine… Day forty- nine... Doing this just isn’t going to cut it. The job search is a failure so far. I’m running out of the money in my account, and I have to pay for food, for the apartment, for the foalsitter etc. I like the foalsitter, and I want to keep her around because I’m definitely not going to get Mom to foalsit for me. She already has her hooves full with Dad. I don’t have any other options. Something has got to give soon. And so I tend to be out of the house more. I don’t have the time to see Dash as much as I’d like, and I don’t have the time to see Dad for the same reasons. Sometimes, I come home, and I feel like Rainbow hardly wants to see me at all. She sees the foalsitter on a consistent basis. I think I know where her loyalties lie. That, well, it saddens me. I walk into the house, and she’s laughing and giggling with the foalsitter, a mare named Wonder. When Wonder leaves, Dashie inevitably tires out. It’s apparent she isn’t an infinite ball of energy. It’s funny, because I never truly remember her ever exhausting herself during the day. Today the same story played itself out. I came home, talked to Wonder for a bit about Dash, laughed and smiled as we talked about what Dash did. Wonder read that picture book to Dash again. They played a few games. Rainbow ended up climbing all over the counter. You know. The things my lovely, rambunctious Rainbow Dash usually does. I smiled as Wonder and I talked, but I guess I didn’t really know how to feel. Sometimes I just wish that Dash would pull the pots and pans back out in the middle of the night and bash them together in a cacophony of sound. It would put a smile on my face, and it would piss the neighbors off. I like the sound of that. But Rainbow is sleeping. I’m up wandering around the apartment like a zombie. I’ve gotten to a point now where sleep is unreachable. Maybe I’ll bang the pots and pans around like a half-wit. I can’t imagine what kind of joy it would bring me, but at least it’s something to do. No. I don’t want that. Instead, I’ll most likely end up hanging over the side of her crib. I’ll most likely end up stroking her multicolored mane. I’ll most likely end up making sure she stays tucked in tight. I’ll most likely end up crying over top of her, not only for her, but for my Dad and my own pathetic situation as well. Then I’ll most likely end up getting lost in a book. I won’t be reading it. I’ll just be staring at the pages, wishing that I could get sucked into their world so I too could fight monsters and steal relics. And then, during some point in the night, I’ll most likely realize that I myself am lost. And then I’ll just sprawl out on the floor and wait for the sun to come up. Then we’ll do it all over again tomorrow.
day sixty-five… Day sixty-five... Ten days. For ten days I haven’t made a single entry. A restless mind and, shall we say, “evil”, thoughts kept me from doing so. I’ve struggled to stay upbeat. I’ve struggled to climb out of bed. I’ve struggled to perform the slightest of duties or the simplest of tasks. After all of it, I found myself asking a single question... What am I truly made of? Flesh is the obvious answer. I am no god. What I am is something tangible, something that lives and breathes though, on some days, I only wish for no more air to pass through these trembling lips. Another answer is guts. It means that I possess bravado, that I am courageous, that I am stoic in the face of peril. This is the wrong answer. That is what I used to be. Now, I am simply uncertain. I feel unworthy to play a part in society’s ultimatum, and that is to function as a well-rounded citizen. After days of lounging on my bed, crying my eyes out for reasons unclear to me, I came to a rather shocking conclusion. What I am made of isn’t anything you can touch or measure. It isn’t anything that you can feel inside, or that you can very well envision. What I am made of, is hope. And so, three days ago, I shot up off of the bed I had been sulking on for a week straight. I threw on some nice clothes. I kissed Rainbow Dash on the cheek, told her I loved her, and that Mommy was about to do something about things. Then, I left. It was spur of the moment, but I phoned the foalsitter, and she was more than happy to come over and sit. I probably don’t pay her enough. I flew over to the Weather Factory. I marched in through the bulky front gate, and I demanded a job. Any job. I have never felt so empowered before in my life. One day ago, I got that job. I file papers for the Weather Factory now. It isn’t by any means exceptional pay, but it’s better than sitting on my plot all day just waiting to hear some good news that I know isn’t coming. It’s time to fix that broken heater. It’s time to pay another visit to Dad. It’s time to stand up for my sorry self. Heh, it’s snowing outside. Time to buy myself a new scarf. More importantly, it’s time to give Dashie her very first Hearthswarming. I intend for it to be memorable.
