Tonight, as I put my #2 to sleep, he gently and ever-so-kindly asked me to sing him a song. I secretly love when he asks me… somebody wants to hear me sing! Anyhow, I gave a sigh and said, “you need to go to sleep after this song.” He then put in his request for You Are My Sunshine. I began and he closed his eyes as if he was contemplating the lyrics and it turns out he was.
He stopped me after “And I hung my head and I cried,” and said, “Wait mom… what was that part where you were holding me and then I was gone and you cried?” I clarified the music and he asked me to please start over, confessing that he liked the song.

If the request was coming from my #1 I would excuse it as a pretty clever way to delay the inevitable.

I started again.

This time, without closing his eyes, he watched me and hung on to every word trying to make sense of the song. I had explained that it was a dream… that I was holding him in a dream and when I woke up and realized it was just a dream, I was sad. When I was finished, he asked for one more song. “Again?” I asked (insert curtsy) as if it was my encore? I have been coughing lately and have a very scratchy voice but he was no critic and could care less, thankfully. (I am so grateful for the simplicity of children. When do we become so Not Simple?) I sang request #2-I Am A Child Of God

When I was finished this time, he reminded me that he needed to say his personal prayers. Aren’t children a good reminder of the things you should be doing? His prayer included some of the most honest and precious things I have ever heard, such as, “please help me to try new foods even though I don’t, and please help me not have dreams about snakes and blood.”

I am so grateful to be a mother. Today, I am grateful. We have been snowed in and I mean that quite literally. Our car, not being capable of driving in the snow, has made it impossible for us to go very far-only to the end of our drive way with our sleds. Anyhow, I thought I wasn’t grateful to be a mother when I felt stuck, unable to go get a grocery or two. I thought I was ready to see another human in the adult version, someone who might understand what it has been like to be stuck at home for four days, somebody who might validate my thoughts and nod in agreement. Instead I had a humble moment to be reminded that children are a gift, a gift that is continual validation regardless of my flaws and short comings, that I don’t need to invite over or leave the house to find.