That's What Mothers Do

It was three in the morning when my son shook me awake. He had a
bad nightmare and he was scared. I wrapped my arms around him
and promised that everything would be okay. That's what mothers
do.

I wiped his tears away and let him climb in bed with me. I knew
it would mean no sleep for me. I only have a twin size bed. At 4
feet, 6 inches and 95 pounds, my baby isn't quite so little
anymore. I let him sleep with me anyway. That's what mother's
do.

I tucked him in and made sure he was warm and comfy. We were
packed in there like a couple of sardines. I was practically
kissing the wall. My back ached from being stuck in one
position. But I didn't complain. I watched my son as he
soundly slept beside me. That's what mothers do.

We got up at 7:00. I was exhausted but he felt good. We went
about the routines of getting ready for school. He was cheerful
and chatty. I listened intently to his stories. That's what
mothers do.

Finally it was time for him to leave. I made sure he had his
gloves, hat and backpack. Then I said good bye and ushered him
out the front door. I closed the door with a sign of relief. My
son would be fine. I savored the sudden peace of a quiet house.
Then I started getting ready for another hectic day. That's what
mothers do.