Mother's Comfort

Last night Dave was so tired, he went to bed shortly after we put the children to bed. He was snoring away [a sound that delights me] when Zeke came out of his room, distraught. Zeke wanted Daddy to clean the water out of his ears [I'm sure there's a story about that, too, but I never quite got it out of him.] Dave has a technique for calming the boy, but alas, I wouldn't let Zeke wake him up. Instead, I offered to snuggle with him like we had done years back.

Instead of singing lullabies to Zeke, I would pray the Catholic rote prayers while rocking him or nursing him. I had no idea he was getting anything from it, but apparently he was. Last night, he said, "Mama, why don't you pray the prayers to put me back to sleep?" And so I wrapped him up in his snuggly blanket, settled into the loveseat and prayed the prayers for my son. It was a moment of sweet closeness, one I imagine the Blessed Mother shared with her beloved Son. Zeke quietly went to sleep and nary a peep was heard from him until this morning. And I was comforted, too, that my role as mother is distinct and useful and necessary to my son.