Moments of Quiet Bliss

     I am lying in bed this morning with my three year old holding my hair like a blanket and breathing it in.  Fading in and out of a dream land, I am washed over with flashes of my sweet baby son nuzzling into my skin and breathing in deeply as if he was a diver coming up for air or a humming bird inhaling draughts of sweet nectar.  The way my little baby melts into me is precious beyond words.
     This part of motherhood, I adore.  Last night I was rocking my youngest after he woke up crying.  Normally a sound sleeper, he was having troubled sleep because of a cold.  As soon as I sat down in our well loved green rocking chair and began to sing, his whole body melted, his eyes closed, and he was transformed. Changed from a tense, crying, uncomfortable child into my sweet baby.  Body heavy with sleep, head resting on my chest, so peaceful, so content, so secure.
    What an amazing power it is to be a mom.  What an amazing love.  The ability with a touch, a gentle sway, and a soft note to transform pain to comfort, crying to quiet, and tension to sweet heavy relaxation.

                                                                         Bliss

A Very Merry Unbirthday

    Early in the morning, so early that my eyes were not yet unglued, I vaguely remember my son crawling into bed with me.  As the fog began to clear I felt him petting my head and heard him saying: " I love you mommy, you are so beautiful.", and other such endearing things.  
     As the sky began  it's daily metamorphosis the increasing light finally brought me out of my half dream state and slowly to reality.  I began to talk to my little guy about the day, what we were going to do, and so on.  Sensing his high state of energy was buzzing even faster than normal, I started to feel alarmed.  ( You know that sudden instinctual feeling that mother's get warning you that something is not as it should be.)
     Slowly turning around, I see my three year old son sitting there with a large piece of chocolate cake in his lap. The chocolate cake that Daddy had thought was well hidden in the back of the fridge. Chocolate coats his face, clothes, fingers, and consequently probably my hair.  " What are you doing with that piece of cake, and why is it in my bed?" was the first thing that flew out of my mouth.  Looking slightly startled, he decided to salvage the moment the best way he knew how. " Happy Birthday Mommy!" 

     How could I not crack up laughing.  It isn't everybody that rolls over and is greeted in their bed with large pieces of chocolate cake, a grinning little one, and a rousing "Happy Birthday." 

Cleaning up Poo and Laughing

    My three year old son is a challenge. Smart in unconventional ways, and yet utterly lacking concepts that "normal" people readily understand. I always console myself with the knowledge that Einsteins teacher's thought he was entirely addled.  Brilliant minds come in unconventional packages.
  Yesterday he came running out of the bathroom thrilled and yelling about how he pooped in a circle.  In utter delusion I asked if he meant that he pooped in the toilet. 
     "No, I pooped in a circle"  was his reply.
     When he turned around, I saw poo streaked down his legs and all over his feet.  Running to him, I scooped  him up to prevent further mess and chaos. 
      Thrilled with being picked up he beamed up at me and yelled " Are you so happy?" at which point my husband and my daughter who up to this point had been mutely lost in the drama of the moment burst out in laughter. 
     " No, Mommy only likes it when you poo in the toilet" was the best I could muster.  I had at this point still managed not to yell. 
     Suddenly realizing that his one of a kind special creation was not appreciated, my crestfallen son looked at me with devastatingly soulful eyes and asked " Do you still love me?"
      " Yes, I always, love you" I said " I  just don't love it when you poo on the floor"
     As we entered the bathroom, I saw that he had indeed created a perfect circle of poo on the floor just for me.  How creative, how smart, how NASTY!!!!  Ugggh!
     I put him in the tub and very clearly told him not to move. Upon entering the bathroom with my cleaning supplies, I was greeted with the sight of my son now spitting all over the floor.  Unhinged I yelled " What are you doing?!:."
      Startled he looked up at me and said " I am helping you clean" 
Soap and water. Spit.  What is the difference really when you are cleaning up poo of of the floor.  I began to laugh.  What else could I do.  My unconventional, out of the box thinker was trying to help. 
    A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.