Jerry's Final Thoughts

I was preparing for bed and made my last round of the apartment to make sure everything was in order. This generally includes starting the dishwasher, locking the doors, setting the thermostat, getting the lights and peeking in on my sleeping kids.

I tip toed into the girls' room and peered into the mess of blankets and limbs, trying to identify where their heads had come to their final rest. I had to pat around in my three year old's bed for about 10 seconds before I could make sense of the bodily contortion she had assumed. A soft pat on her cheek assured me that no monsters had crept in and bit her head off since I'd last seen her. My one year old Cher had assumed the bum-in-the-air pose, the rest of her body curled up underneath in a tight ball. I gently placed a blanket over her high-held rear but Cher's subconscious mind must have objected to the circus tent look and she rolled over with a grunt.

Not wanting to upset the magical phenomena of children sleeping, I slowly backed out from the room, tripping over the lingering detritus of princess play. And tonight, like every other night, I had the overwhelming, surprising emotion of joy in motherhood. The wonderful triteness of it. Of how the small things really do bring the most joy. Especially if those small things are two, amazing little girls who think you're the best thing planet since sippy cups. So forgive the gooeyness of the sentiment, but I'm one blessed lady.

My nightly rounds are a happy routine. And while my patting the children's faces in the dark to make sure they haven't been defiled by monsters may seem excessive to some, it's sure a nice little feeling to know that they haven't. So for my final thought: Kids + Heads = Joy.

My husband is going to make fun of me for this post, so spare me any heckling in the comment section. I've already got my hands full of it on this side of the computer.