Mother's Work

I always love some quiet time at the end of the day,
when everyone is asleep but me.

I can't help but hear the famous line,
"not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."
I love this all year round.

When everything is still, I can REALLY take in the beauty of our day,

our home, my children, in a way that's a little less, well, a little less like herding cats.

 

Recently, we read Peter Pan.  I connected with it in a way I hadn't expected.  Early on, Barrie writes this:

Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds.  It is the nightly custom of every good mother after children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for the next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day.  If you could keep awake (but of course you can't) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her.  It is quite like tidying up drawers.  You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humourously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight.  When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind; and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.

In December, these maps of the minds Barrie describes, these Neverlands, spill over into little vignettes around the house. 

And a sleeping house reveals things like this --

tucked beneath our big tree, a tiny little tree with tiny little

presents wrapped with care for softies and dolls.

I can feel her sweet heart, lying right there on top.