I sat with the little one while he snuggled into his bed tonight. He has approximately fifty stuffed animals on his bed, with about half being My Little ponies. He is currently hugging a red panda and his baby burp cloth, that he still holds at night, but hides under his pillow if friends come over. His room is quite hot for a house that has two air conditioners running full blast all day, so there is a fan that occasionally pushes cool air into his room. I’m not going to think about the upcoming electric bill for such extravagance. I’m already behind, and I’m trying to figure that out first. I worry at a hang nail until I remember, I have an tiny audience, and instead turn back to my book while squeezing his hand.
The boyfriend, rubs my shoulders and puts his lips to my head when my anxiety creeps in and escalates to the point that he can see tears swimming in my eyes. “One step at a time. We can do this. It will be okay.” He breathes this daily into my ear, writes it with kisses into my skin. Logan has his stuffed animals for comfort, I have him. He believes for me when I am scared, or when can’t sleep at night, or when I’m overwhelmed, or I feel alone.
The little one, is sleepy, but fighting it tonight. Just like every night of his existence, since he was born. This one is always afraid that he will miss something. He rubs his eyes and smiles whenever my eyes meet his. “Mommy, stay with me until I fall asleep. Hug me, hold me tight.” Despite my occasional fear and doubt, he does not know they exist. I am the one that offers him solace. I whisper promises and happy thoughts into his hair, and intertwine my fingers with his.
The three of us, did not start out together. But right now, at this moment, we fit together better than anything ever before. We seek each other out, make each other laugh, and give each other another face to call home.