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For the LOVE

Nightly, I need to request, remind, threaten, and eventually yell at Mr. Mohawk to go to sleep. He is an active 5 year old with an equally active imagination. He's constantly talking to and playing with his toys. When we went to Disney he got a Mickey AND a Minnie doll because "Mickey needed a friend to talk to." Well that, and Daddy is a sucker for those big brown eyes and very logical arguments. (Mommy would have said, "or we can get no Mickey?".)

So it wasn't a surprise that 11pm I heard whispering coming from his room. "Mr. Mohawk! GO.TO.SLEEP."

1:45am. I wake up. Do I hear knocking? I jump out of bed. The dog lifts his head and Hubby doesn't even stir. Yep. Knocking. Then "Mommy?".

I'm coming sweetie pie. There he is. My rough and tumble boy tears streaming down his face. He can't catch his breath. His dream terrified him. What was it about? His brown eyes widen and the years escape them. A..a...crab. It was going to eat me and then it saw my really Mama and it grabbed her with its hands. And she couldn't save me. And then it started to come after me and I woke up. It was going to EAT me!

You're safe now baby. You're at my house. There are no crabs. You're safe.

He doesn't get them often but they are generally before he sees his Mom. And while I love my uninterrupted sleep, the importance of this routine motherly task is not lost on me. It used to be he'd wake up Little Mama. Time and consistency have changed that.

He can find comfort in my arms now. His breathing calms and his body relaxes as I rock him back to sleep. And for a brief moment I allow myself to imagine he was mine from birth. That nights of rocking him were common. I allow myself to forget that I'm supposed to be helping him LEAVE my home and go back to a mother that hurt him.

I imagine telling him he can sleep between Hubby and I tonight. Curling up with him in my arms and listening to his breathing become steady and deep before I go back to sleep.

But the state does not allow that. Instead I tuck him back into bed. And then sing the Italian lullaby that I grew up with, as his eyes get heavy.

I wake to find a beautiful Saturday morning waiting for us. I get him and his sisters up and ready for their visit. Upon Jelly Bean's awakening, it's announced she wet the bed.

It doesn't end....

Comments

  1. :(. It is always sad to see what visits do to our kids

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes but why announce it to the world? Really? When we all know these kiddies are smart and probably reading this and my and your blog!!!!!" How do you think they are going to feel if you put all the personal businesses out for the entire world to read? When you were to be the ibe they could count on? Plus if they want to be public I'm sure they have a contract of sort right? I'd hope adoptive parents and such surrounding these beautiful kids already looked into.

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