I Am the One

Geoff is putting Matilda to bed tonight. I can hear them from the kitchen where I am washing the dishes. He is finished with his lengthy reading session - daylight savings makes for challenging bedtimes - and he is attempting to move on to the next step. The step of the actual sleep.

I can hear Matilda, "I want Mommy. I don't want you."

She repeats this quite a few times just in case Geoff doesn't get the point. The point being, in the Newton household, I am most popular.

In so many ways this is like a soft pillow for a tired head, because I sure wasn't the popular one in high school. But popularity in a household does not give you quite the same rewards as popularity in high school.

For example, I am the one who must sympathize and kiss invisible wounds when I feel like saying, "I told you so..."

I am the one who must clean up the spilled milk and worse.

I am the one who must climb out of bed to aid and keep company at hours of the clock that should never be seen by human eyes.

I am the one who must interrupt my most important work, my train of thought, my relaxation to get a tissue.

I am the one who must referee a battle of siblings as a neutral party when I would like to clunk all heads together.

I am the one followed to the toilet, the shower, to get dressed when I just want a minute alone.

I am the one.

But - I am also the one who receives countless kisses from those who don't even know how to yet close their mouth.

I am the one who receives unconditional trust despite my loud cries of dismay over bad behavior.

I am the one who is showed proud displays of gymnastics and craftmanship.

I am the one who is turned to for advice and guidance.

I am the one who gets raspberries on my tummy's stretch marks.

I am the one who hears "I love you" at unexpected moments when I need it most.

I am the one.