My consciousness surfaces
With a hand on my face and the weight
of a leg across my belly,
Both belonging to my two favorite beings,
The pieces of me that actually make sense.
I open my eyes to his freckles,
A squashy nose and dimples,
A smile that exceeds the morning’s sunshine
Streaming through my window.
He touches his baby nose to mine
And moves away, grinning.
I turn over so as not to wake her
Gently removing her leg from on top of me
And turn to watch her sleep -
I hug her gently,
Amazed by the beauty of her peaceful slumber,
The mole just under her eye.
The mole on her neck.
A toy spazzes over us, crashes against the wall,
across my thoughts.
He peers with all his stealth over the corner
of the edge of the bed – grinning.
Look Mommy! Batman can fly!
Ssh! I shake my head, a finger to my lips –
It touches my smile and I laugh silently
So as not to wake her.
She stirs and then goes still and I find her baby hand,
Yet bigger still than his, warm and soft
And I reach an arm to him and he crawls up and digs
Through the blankets and my shirt to my tummy where
He took so many naps once when he was smaller.
He blows a raspberry there now.
And she says, Mommy! I dreamed there was a rainbow
and a pony and…
She keeps talking and he starts talking with her.
I pull the blankets up closer around me
and throw them off and over them
And the tickling starts and when we can breathe again
I say, how about breakfast?
YaY! They sing
And run away and I lie there, one moment,
Cherishing them, the pieces that make me make sense to myself.