Story of Two Mountains.

Last night, Tony was excited. We had scheduled a day off this weekend to decorate for Halloween. Blow ups! Fog machines! Big scary spiders and webs! Yard stakes (made from election stakes they stuck in our yard a few years ago ha)! He even made the grave error of saying, “Tomorrow we can sleep in!” I gave him the side eye, because with an almost 4 year old in the house, there is no such thing as sleeping in. Sure, the child would love to sleep in on weekdays, but weekends? Nope. He is up at the butt crack of dawn.

As would happen, 5:33 AM I wake up. The house is silent. I have no idea what woke me up. So I rearrange my pillow, lay back down and pretend to myself that I’m sleeping. Tony’s wisdom from years ago echoes in my mind, “Even if you’re awake, if you’re resting it’s kind of like sleeping.” So, I laid there.

6:42 AM, “Mommy? Mommy?” I get up and go to William. “Mommy? Can you lie down with me?” I do.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, I listen to him breathing and feel his heart beating. It’s a peaceful moment, but my mind has been awake for over an hour by now, and the thoughts of a mother run through my head. Remembering how when I was pregnant with him, toward the end of the pregnancy he used to practice breathing and I’d watch my belly move up and down where his lungs were, and how I would listen to his heart with a doppler every day just to make sure he was OK. And I feel inordinately blessed that he loves to snuggle, and I wonder how long he will want me to snuggle him.

His mind was apparently working, too, because he says, “I’m going to tell you the story of two mountains now.”

“OK. I’m listening,” I encouraged him.

“Once upon a time there were two mountains. The first mountain is called Big Bear Mountain and at the top of it is a cabin,” he continues.

“That sounds nice.” I observed.

“In the cabin is movies that you watch.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts, then says, “The other mountain is a SCARY mountain. At the top of that mountain is a scary magician!”

“A scary magician? That sounds frightening!” I grasp William tightly.

“Hey! it’s OK, it’s OK! The scary magician put dried corn in the oven and he made popcorn! He’s not scary anymore! And that’s it. Let’s go see what daddy’s doing.”