the keepers of my heart

Last night I had a dream that Simon died. I woke up at 2:45 AM to the sound of my own sob. I've had an exhausting couple of days (weeks) and it just so happens to be that time of the month for me. I think my mind created a dream to force me to be emotional because my body just needed to cry... and I've been avoiding it. When I woke up and realized it was all a bad dream, I walked into the nursery and heard the baby snoring in his crib. Nothing sounded more beautiful. Isn't it amazing that a human being can enter your life and after 5 short months, you can't imagine living without them? That chubby 18-pounder has my heart.

I went back to bed and laid in the darkness. I probably could have continued the sob-fest, but I was afraid I would wake the husband, so I let the tears quietly fall down my face onto my pillow. As I thought about ALL of the things I needed to do when the sun came up, instead of feeling overwhelmed, I felt grateful. My kids are alive and sleeping safely in their beds. All is well.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to one of my best friends on the phone about this craZy stage in our lives. Babies, diapers, meals, laundry, messes, more feeding, bigger messes.. just to start all over again the next day. She mentioned that everyone says that THIS stage is the best part of motherhood. I responded, "If this is as good as it gets, kill me now." We laughed, encouraged one another and then went about our day changing diapers and wiping dirty faces. This morning at 3 AM, I thought about that conversation and came to the conclusion that this IS the best stage of motherhood. It really is. My boys are young and silly and still think I am the coolest person on the planet. That's going to change real soon. One of these days, they are going to grow up and make decisions for themselves... decisions that not only affect their lives- but mine. I want to keep them under my wings for as long as possible. Here in this stage, we are safe and secure and happy.

I am not sure what time I fell back asleep... but around 7 AM, my little chicks crawled in bed with me, asking to read a chapter of Stuart Little before breakfast. On a typical morning after a bad night's sleep, I would have shoo-ed them away, telling them to come back in a while. But this morning, I gladly welcomed them under the covers. This is where I want to stay all day-- all year-- forever.