Evening Plans

Funny how my last post was after the babe and the man went to sleep.

Here I find myself again - alone - with my two men snoring in the other room.

Normally, I'm with them, generating my own snores and bass like nose thunder. I'm typically passed out at night, exhausted from work, from the day, from life, from being a mom.

And then there are other days where I'm awake (like now), listening to the thunderous silence that grows in the house hallways once the TV is off, the dogs asleep, the baby quiet, and the man-interruptions are quieted by dreams.

Just silence.

It isn't golden. I don't know where that saying comes from. It's more - like silver... and silk. Gentle. Luminous. Calming.

I'm trying to take a moment to reflect on being a mom - what this means to me as a person, as a woman, as someone who is getting older.

I see my son growing before my eyes - accelerated due to digital photos and cameras - and the passing of time has never been so evident. As he gets older, so too, do I.

I want to press the "pause" button - maybe even the rewind button - if only that meant I could retrieve those initial moments when he was out of my womb. If only that meant I could go back to a time when I was not only younger in months, but younger in my womanhood.

Physically, I'm aging. The signs of wear and tear are evident: on my face (sun spots), my hands (valley-like wrinkles), my thighs (large and voluminous), and my abdomen (razor thick, red scar).

But mostly, I feel my age in my spirit. My spirit has grown older in the these few short months with my son. I feel wiser, heavier, wearier, but most importantly, happier.

It's a wisdom, and an aging, that is only brought about with motherhood.