Tuesday, January 18, 2011

I'll See You in the Morning

Nighttime has quickly become my favorite time of day.

This is not because it’s the first opportunity I’ve had to remember what my name is, to accomplish something non-work related, to chat with my husband or catch up on life, to pat the dog’s head, curl up with the Kindle, write to you all or catch my favorite show, but because it’s bedtime. Not for me. Not for the hubs, the dog or obnoxious cat. But for our remarkable son.

And no, it’s not because it’s gratifying for the silence to fill the house and peace descend upon us, the patter of small feet no longer hitting the wood floors, Baby Einstein no longer playing in the background, balls being thrown against the fireplace, markers used as magical wands, trucks banging into the floorboards, new words being repeated one after another in a chorus of beautiful strings and strands, forks and plates being tossed to the floor, quickly followed by “uh oh,” dance parties to toddler tunes or the running of bath water. It’s more about…

His breaths – deep, innocent sighs following one another as he drifts into slumber. The weight of his small body falling partially across my shoulder, while the other half sprawls across my lap. The tucking of his “ba bas,” one under my chin, the other pressed carefully between his pointer and thumb fingers, his other one loosely linked to his mouth. The sense that all of his toddler energy is leaving his body as he sinks deeper and deeper into my arms, the smell of his freshly cleaned hair lingering just as when he was a newborn, his small feet wedged between my knees. It’s the darkness that surrounds us and the indescribable feeling that suddenly, nothing matters at all. Nothing but this moment. This sensation. This remarkable, undeniable, unconditional love that exists between a mother and a child.

So yes, once the teeth are brushed, the jammies are on, the songs are sang, the choo choo is discussed, the books are read, the milk is drank, and our dreams for one another swapped, we both fall into a drunken stupor of love and slumber that result in a high that no drug could ever replace. And here, we cite from memory precious lines such as “Don’t be afraid of darkness, don’t be afraid my sweet…the night is just a blanket, to help the world to sleep….; I’ll be here if you need me, I’m only steps away, so close your eyes and dream a dream of tomorrow’s brand new day.” Lines stolen from “I’ll See You in the Morning”, a darling child’s book that for some reason, has stolen both of our hearts.

And all I can think of as I creep out of his room, carefully avoiding that one sneaky area that creaks, is:

I’ll see you in the morning.

In fact, I can’t wait to see you in the morning…

And then, just like that, morning quickly becomes my favorite time of day.

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