Rain

This morning I woke up to the rain.

For some reason, the quiet house and the sound of rain on the roof took me back to when my kids were little. I remember sneaking into Jed’s room and him looking up at me from his crib where he was holding onto the bars like a little convict trying to break out, one sock off and one halfway off as he bounced up and down on his chubby legs. He would grin this big two-toothed grin at me like I was the sun coming into his room, in person. I remember the smell of lavender baby lotion and clean laundry, powder and clean diapers.

I would reach down for his snuggly little body, still cozy and warm from sleep, and change him then settle into the rocking chair my grandma bought for us when I was pregnant with Sadie. We would nurse, snuggle, and rock in the quiet morning, just the two of us. We would read “Animal Babies,” or “Little Blue Truck,” or “Tractor Factory,” or maybe “Quick as a Cricket.” I would hold his little hand and he would pat me on my cheek, relaxing into my lap and pointing out the monkey on the page about being as “wild as a chimp.”

Those days are gone now, replaced by sports, sports, and more sports. He’s reading “My Side of the Mountain” to himself and now we have mornings of Fortnite, along with him begging for turkey bacon (“so much better than regular bacon, Mom!”) Today I brought him a sweatshirt straight out of the dryer to warm him up since he can’t be bothered to snuggle with me much in the mornings anymore. He sings absent-mindedly as he puts his contact in: “I’m on easy street… And it feels so sweet… The world’s a treat… When you’re on easy street… hum… hum… hum… da… da… da… I’m on easy street…) Wait… HEY! THIS IS NARCISSISM!”

I don’t think he really knows that word, but he surprises me with all that he picks up, so who knows? Maybe he does.

I miss my baby boy, but this little guy on the other side of the house cleans out the dishwasher for his sister for no reason and he gave me a hug last night because I looked like I needed it. He makes me laugh every single day. He scouted out the kitchen window for the mallard ducks in the backyard, and I’m pretty sure before too long he’s going to pull on his boots to go run through the puddles in the yard just like he used to.

And so, even though I still miss that squishy baby, today I am thankful for the rain.