Things I Can't Say

Tips and Tales from an Introverted Mom

Things They Can’t Say: Life on the Mama Track

Natalie is a Harvard lawyer turned work-at-home mom.  She lives in Washington, D.C. with her husband, three-year old son, baby girl, and two terrible terriers. She shares the adventures of her journey home at Life on the Mama Track. 
HoldingHands

His arms wrapped around my neck.

And tears welled in his eyes.

“Mama, I need you to stay. Something keeps coming in my room at night.”

My heart, in that instance, skipped a beat.

And then it pulled.

As I recovered, I knew his fear was nothing more this his imagination.

He is my oldest.

And he is three.

We are approaching, have perhaps reached, the age of monsters and magic and “Stay Safe Spray.”

The age of “let’s pretend” and imagination.

The age of intangible fears.

I pulled him closer, breathing in the smell of freshly shampooed hair and clean pajamas.

I was supposed to leave.

I had told him it was time.

And I could feel the clock ticking, the minutes passing.

The demands building.

Like every mother, I depend on the evening hours to work, to think, to breathe.

My to-do list called.

But not as loudly as his need.

And my love.

For his whole life, he has felt safe and comfortable.

He has never known fear or apprehension.

Never worried about the things that go bump in the night

Until now.

There is something humbling about the day your child learns to fear the world.

Something heartbreaking.

Eye-opening.

The world, of course, is full of dangers.

It has been all along.

And I have always done, and will always try, my best to keep him safe.

To shield him, in every way possible.

Nothing in that regard has changed.

But now he suspects that danger lurks.

And believes, really believes, that a parent’s presence will fend off any problem.

So I stayed with him, as the precious minutes of my quiet time waned.

I lay there, in the dark, my head on a pillow next to his.

A soft blanket, covered in trains, pulled over us.

A light blue elephant, resting in his hand.

In that moment, he felt secure.

Safe.

“Don’t go,” he whispered.

His eyes were heavy.

Throughout his life, I will be unable to protect him from most of the obstacles he will face.

Soon, his path will be his own.

The challenges, his alone to face.

But, for now at least, I can walk with him.

Or, as the case may be, lie next to him.

I can battle the monsters in his dreams.

The fear in his heart.

The danger in his mind.

And that’s something.

Something important.

Something real.

Be sure to leave Natalie some comment love here and then go visit Life on the Mama Track.

Comments

  2. Waving hi to one of my faves 🙂
    Natalie, it’s so true we can stay with them in small moments in hopes that they will remember our presence in the big ones. (Also, we have a stuffed dog that “protects” Abbey’s room “from the monsters”. Sigh…)

  4. Shell always has the best friends here.

    As my 7 year old continues to “get bigger” in so many ways, I really cherish those moments when he actually needs me still. Some nights to rub his back, or sit with him while he reads. Both of my boys have select moments where they need – no, want – me to just be with them. And I try my hardest to let go of the “to do” – I’m working on it 😉

  5. “My to-do list called, but not as loudly as his need..” so eloquently put. I use my my nights as well for work and sometimes get “annoyed” when my kids are not sleeping as they are supposed to, etc.  But they depend on us.  For everything.  Good mama, you! 

  6. Fears are a tough one to tackle especially since we live in a world that sems so rushed for our children to grow up that these fears appear so much sooner than they should. They do grow so fast so enjoy the time when they do need you.

  7. Wonderful poem. We can always be there for our children, even as they get older (mine are in their twenties), just in different ways. When they are young, all they often need if for you to just be there, physically and mentally present with them. Thanks for that reminder.

  8. You captured so perfectly what I am going through over here. My daughter will be three in January and every single night I hear, “I want you to stay.” She grabs for me and clutches so tight that my heart breaks a little each time wondering what has her so scared. Nothing is getting done here and sometimes I resent it. I have three other kids that need me at that hour. But sometimes…sometimes I stay and relish in the fact that she still needs me and is still comforted by me and the cuddles…well, they are just priceless.

  9. Tearing up because this is so true. Others don’t understand (sometimes, not even dad). This is probably the only stage when they will wholeheartedly believe that we can shield them with our love. You have said everything that has been on my heart. Thank you.

  10. Just last night my four year old begged me to sleep in my bed, he’d had a bad dream… he’d been wanting to sleep in my bed for weeks and I promised that the first time Daddy left on a trip he could, but my husband rarely travels alone… and last night before bed my boy complained that he’d been “waiting for so long” to sleep with me. When he woke up at five after a nightmare (real or imagined I cannot say) and insisted I stay with him, whimpered that he was scared I just caved and he switched places with his dad. I hope he doesn’t decide to set up camp in my room every night, but maybe every once in awhile they need (and deserve) the comfort of sleeping in mommy’s arms…

  11. I love this post! Sometimes as a mom I feel like half of what I do isn’t appreciated nor is it really necessary. Sometimes I forget that for my little ones at least, I am their whole world…their hero…their mom.
    Sandy

    • I love the way you put that–their hero, their whole world, their mom. Because we are. And I know that I have a hard time remembering it. Especially when someone is screaming at me because I didn’t make his almond butter and jelly in the right order.

      Thanks for the reminder!

  12. Wow, two of my favorite bloggers in one place.  Neat!

    Beautiful post and so true.  Sometimes, I wish I could wrap my arms around my boys and shield them from the world’s fears and stresses. It’s humbling to see them look to me to rescue them.  I do, physically wrap them in warm hugs often to let them know that I’m always here for them and with them and love them.    It’s we mamas do huh, and for our kiddos, for now,  it’s important and enough.  

  13. This is so sweet, you’ve almost got me crying. It’s so true though… he’s not going to need you like this forever and moments like these are the ones to cherish. 

  14. Such a sweet moment… moments like that are ones to cherish. Because all to long he’ll realize that there aren’t any monsters and that he is big enough to handle it all (or think that he is) and he won’t want you there to cuddle and protect him. They grow up so quickly..

  18. I love that you let life outside of being a mom and all the to dos that come along with it fall to the wayside to be with your son. We can only protect them and make them feel safe for such a short time in their lives. You’re a good mama!

  19. Beautiful post, on a topic I know all too well. My youngest son gets the worst nightmares…and he’s been getting them pretty much every night for the past 3 years. He’s 6-1/2 now and he still wakes in the middle of the night, terrified, and climbs in bed with me. I’m glad I can make him feel better, but I just wish I could get the nightmares to stop. I thought he’d grow out of them by now.

  20. Hi I just love your blog and would love it if you would come and follow mine! I am from Myrtle Beach and saw your pin board on pinterest! It was awesome!!!

  21. My oldest (5 years old) has been waking up screaming the past three nights, now. I think he’s having nightmares, but he can’t even tell me about it, so I can’t take aware his fear. His fear is real. His need to have the door open and the light on is real. I have to hug him and tuck him back in, and start over. But I feel for him, because I can’t make the nightmares go away.

  22. I was told so many times, you have to let them learn to sleep alone, they will get over it and so much more well meaning advice of the same nature. I smiled and listened, but when my little girls were afraid and wanted Mommy – I was there. I held them and loved them with all my heart. The real world would come soon enough. I knew the days when they didn’t want to be seen with me, let alone hugged would come soon enough. I treasured every minute I had with my little girls. Now both of them are adults and on their own. But I still get phone calls from them saying, Mom, I need you. I love you and you are the only one who will understand and can help me. A few months ago, I visited my married daughter who lives 12 hour from home – we sat up on the couch, under the same blanket, watched movies and talked all night. It was just like I had my little girl back for a few precious hours. The best feeling in the world!

    • Oh, wow. This is what it’s all about. 

      Thank you so, so much for sharing this moment. It is the kind of moment I hope to have with my children. And sometimes it’s hard to keep sight of that.

  23. Oh, I loved this…your posts always take me back 15 years. And it’s just like I was there yesterday.

    Chase those monsters while you can.