Saying goodnight

So sweetly she sleeps; rhythmic breathing soft and calm brings peace to my restless heart, of which I did not know felt unrest. The low glow of her bedside light gently bounces off her favorite greens and purples and envelopes her stuffed friends in muted yellow warmth.

I kneel quietly beside her and take in the curls of her fine blonde hair spread against the amethyst pillow case. In her face I see my baby girl; though not yet five years old, I can already seen her beauty as a young woman. Still innocent and pure, she’s given me wise perspective on love and life. I smile thinking of her curious mind always wondering; her frustration pushing her to learn more; her delight when she’s become enlightened. My girl. She is independent. Wise. Loving.

I lean in and kiss her forehead. It smells like strawberry shampoo. I tuck a strand of tender curls behind her ear. “Goodnight baby girl.”

Tip toeing out of her room, I leave the light aglow–keeping the monsters away. I breathe in a pleasant sigh, my shoulders relax.

Down the hallway I enter her brother’s room. Two years older than his sister yet  just as sweet. The darkness of his space lulls my mind to a drowsy state. The soft  illumination from the hall lights up his face perfectly–calm and serene for the first time all day, my classic boy through and thorough. I kneel quietly beside him. My heart settles into contented peace, taking in the contours of face. As with his sister I see my baby, my first-born the day I met him, yet the forming portrait of a young man shows through.

Smart, athletic, rambunctious, and just as curious as his sister. I grin remembering his breakfast time monologue about sharks and outer space and his requests for monster soup with his toast. My Peanut. He is inquisitive. Imaginative. Strong. The role as protector and teacher over his younger sister he takes seriously…  a  fleeting memory at the park flashes through my mind. Holding his toddler sister by the hand, he vowed “Mom, I will protect her forever.”

I stroke his forehead and hold back misty tears. The fur from “Panda” brushes my arm. A piece of his baby blanket lives inside the beloved, furry comrade. “Goodnight Peanut.”

As the moon rises high, my two precious gifts sleep soundly in peace. As  mother, I absorb the woes and worries leaving nothing but what matters most to their tiny and growing spirits. Teaching and protecting, laughing and playing, learning and discovering. At night when their weary spirits sleep, I pray they wake up stronger and happier. There is nothing sweeter and more calming than the sight  of my sleeping babes, storing up for what’s coming next…

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