While my 3-year-old twin boys, Austin and Kyle, are in the process of expanding their vocabulary, "Mama" still seems to be an old favorite.
Following a long day at the park and an even longer day of hearing "Mama" times two, I was looking forward to their bedtime, so I could retreat to a warm bath.
After dinner, their bath and reading books, bedtime finally arrived. As I closed their bedroom door, I thought, "Ta-da!" the rest of the evening would finally be mine.
My husband, John, works in the evenings, and often wonders what I "do" when the kids go to bed. I tell him that after a day with twin toddlers, all I "do" is relax. And relaxing comes easily in my bathroom.
Looking for Relaxation
That night, I went all out for my bath time. I added bath salts to ease my tired legs from running in two directions all day. I dipped two cotton balls in cold aloe vera to place on my red, puffy, allergy-ridden eyes that came from smelling all the flowers I was given by my sons.
And lastly, a cold glass of water sat beside the bathtub to replenish my fluids because, no matter how often we go out, I will have packed everything but the kitchen sink for my sons, yet I still leave my drink behind.
A eucalyptus candle was lit to fill the bathroom with soothing scents. I was settled in my bath, cool cotton balls covered my eyes, salts soothed my legs, and a pleasant aroma filled the air. I was relaxed.
The Call
Then I heard "Mama" being called from the boys' bedroom. We do not live in a mansion, but if we did, I am convinced I could be in a whole other wing, floor or level and I would still hear the quiet echo of "Mama" drifting in the air.
We do, however, live in a home where if I speak loudly enough, I can be heard across the hall and into their room. My husband is convinced that I speak loudly enough to be heard in a mansion, across the desert, in a different time zone, basically, just about everywhere.
So I spoke loudly enough for them to hear me say, "Go back to bed."
I waited a few minutes and it got quiet. I resumed relaxation. Then "Mama" drifted back into my consciousness. It wasn't a "911" cry or "scared of the dark" cry; it was just "Mama."
I reluctantly got out of my bath and ventured to their room. I slowly opened their bedroom door and expected to see them lying on the floor in front of the door. But instead, I turned on their light and saw Austin standing in front of his bedroom window and pointing.
My heart raced. Was there someone outside? I darted to him, pulled up the blinds and looked out. No one was outside. I looked for Kyle, and saw him fast asleep, cuddling "Monkey," his stuffed animal. I put Austin back to bed, gave him his pacifier and kissed him goodnight.
I was about to turn out the lights when he got up and went back to the window. There is a small, corner section of their blinds that Austin and Kyle have pulled off to look through. Austin was peering out from his little window to the world and was pointing. Pacifier in his mouth, he was saying something.
I bent down to where he stood and looked out. That is when I saw why he was pointing. A huge, glorious, full moon was glowing in the nighttime sky. Austin took out his pacifier and said his new word, "Moon, Mama."
My world was hectic and crazy that day, and I looked to soothe my tired body and find comfort in bath salts, aloe vera and a eucalyptus candle. And while I initially felt deprived that my time alone for relaxation had been interrupted by the neverending cry of "Mama," those feelings evaporated the minute I was introduced to the moon by my 3-year-old son, Austin.
My little man and the moon rejuvenated my spirits and made me proud to answer to "Mama."
Mary Billiter is a weekly columnist with The Pinedale Round-Up. Her column appears in The Round-Up. You can contact her at mbilliter@silverstar.com.