Dear Babes

Today I watched in awe of the amazingness that is childhood.  Imagination and energy was bursting at the seams of our little apartment.  Finger puppets were made and play bills taped around the house to inform the adults that, yes indeed, dreaming and play was taking place.

You ushered me into the room, "your stage", where the show was to go on.  Once I sat, fairies flew, stories emerged, told as though you were reading aloud a tale from distant Narnia or Neverland.  The unfolding tale flowed easily.

As the littlest of Babes cried out in gaseous agony, you raced to her side with doctor kit in hand.  I explained that her cries could possibly be the result of a poor diet on the Littlest of Babes' Mama's part.  But you, The Eldest, simply looked wisely into my eyes and said that "No, you are good at mothering."   Gently, you rubbed the Babes' belly, and explained how gentle your touch was and sang sweetly.

In these moments, I watch you with bright eyes and a smile that never fades.  I am afraid simultaneously that my positive reaction, well any reaction, could thwart this magic.  But how can I stop from experiencing such joy, especially when it lets me experience, if even for a moment, your purity and joy.

Tonight, I go to sleep nursing one babe, resting beside another and thinking of the Eldest tucked away. I dream of our tomorrows and adventures, and fondly remember the day of pretend and a wisdom that only children have, a wisdom that I have lost and you have helped me rediscover.

xoxox

The Mama