Mommy?

When I was little I spent quite a few nights sleeping on my parent's bedroom floor. I don't know if I had a higher than average amount of nightmares, if I'm an over-reactive person, or if I'm typical, but I would get up, tap on my parent's door and tell my poor light-sleeper of a mom that I'd had a bad dream and needed to sleep on their floor. I'd drag in pillows and blankets and settle myself down on the safety of their floor (their bed frame went all the way to the floor with built in drawers so no monsters could be under there to get me. Pshew). Then came the kicker- that Mom had to hang her hand over the side of her bed while she slept so I could grab it just in case I needed it. I can't imagine that was a very comfortable way to sleep, but she did it because she's my mom, she loves me and she knew I was scared.

I'm the mom now. It hit me like a thunderbolt last night when Z woke up and was whimper sobbing pitifully. We laid down on the floor for a minute and he reached over, put his hand on my cheek and immediately calmed down. I thought, "Really? That's it? That's good enough?" It was. Because I'm mommy. Just as surely as my mom's hand hovering above me in the dark was enough to protect me from any imagined or perceived dangers, I'm enough to do the same for Z.

Whoa.

We're sleepy :)