First off, it started when I looked out my window at sunrise. From my window I can look out over the Pacific ocean. The sun that rose over the Sierra Nevada behind me shaded the intensity of the colors but reflected the perfect shade of pink and orange into my room. A swirling bath of lavender, midnight blue and a cheerful pink merged on my navy blue bedsheets. It is usually the sound of the cooing baby in the oak crib next to me who wakes me up; reminding me I am a mother and I have a multitude of tasks set before me - even before the sun rises. However, it was the soft breathing of his pink, chubby body that soothed me to just stare helplessly out the window.
I find myself smiling. Not because I find his crooked little expression of release amusing, but because the connection I feel to something so small; so invalidic, fufills my deepest holes. His bright green blanket, that clashes horribly with his baby blue motif, twists as he squirms out the last bit of restlessness left in his tiny body. Any feeling I had of wanting or needing some kind of romantic fufillment in my life is washed away... because I know I am truly loved, no matter how many stupid thins I do.
I turn on my heel quickly, partially because I am still paranoid from living on the wrong side of town for so long and part way because my serenity had been broken by such an eerie sound of a door creaking. A little bleached-blnde, blue-eyed cherub toddles halfway across the room rubbing his sweet eyelids as he moans to rouse himself enough to stand upright. His bright red one-piece pajamas that I felt the impulse to buy him out of sheer cuteness; make his sweet, pastel pink skin even brighter.
"Mommy," is all I have to hear from his small, one-year-old voice before I melt. He stretches his little baby fat to reach the curvature of the top of my bed. He longs to be big enough to be able to get up there on his own, but not now. I turn and make a soft sound to hush him from waking his brother. He smiles at my presence as I pick him up t coddle him. For the moment, all is where it should be in the world. War, famine, pestilence, plague... it seems all a distant memory as I rock him against my chest; letting him hear how my heart beats for him.
This is for all of the single mothers out there who find their greatest peace and relaxation in the simplicity of six in the morning.
Thank you, Mothers!
