Safe in Mommy's Arms (or, Let me Cuddle with you While You're Still Little)

David and Elizabeth and I had a fabulous time in the Bay area over the Memorial Day weekend. We hit the road on Friday afternoon as soon as David was dismissed from school, and braved the Los Angeles freeway traffic with 100,000 of our closest friends and neighbors. It's becoming clearer and clearer that the kids are seasoned travelers. Just plop them in the back seat, hook up the DVD player, and they are good to go. Even though it was almost 11:00 p.m. when we arrived at the apartment in Newark, they were still pretty wired. Of  course, they crashed the second their little heads hit the pillow.

Whenever we head to Newark or, as the four of us refer to it, "up north," David and Elizabeth usually have just one goal in mind: to see their cousins Allison, Wesley, and Chloe. They are giddy (bordering on hyper) with excitement at the prospect of playing non-stop with the younger members of the Hastings gang. When their eyes were not affixed on the DVD screen, David and Elizabeth spoke of little else but of the cousins: when they would see them first, what they would do together, and how they would happily cause all sorts of mischief.

And so it was the case that plenty of cousin-related play time was scheduled into the weekend's activities. In fact, when we arrived at their house on Sunday afternoon, Allison, the oldest of the Nor Cal Hastings kids, announced to me that they were having a "Cousin's Sleep Over." Sure enough, it had been all arranged. My sainted brother-in-law, John, and his wife, Teri, voluntarily - and without any coercion whatsoever (well, maybe by their own kids, of course) - held court over a house full of kids ages ten and younger for more than 24 hours. By the time Glen and I arrived to their house mid-morning on Monday to claim (or otherwise take responsibility of the So Cal Hastings kids), the party was still going strong. Allison had beautifully braided both Chloe and Elizabeth's hair, the girls had tucked fresh flowers behind their ears, and all had embarked on a walk to a nearby lake with Uncle John.

As the afternoon rolled around, I anticipated that the kids might eventually start winding down. And, no, that didn't happen - not when there are tree houses to explore, trampolines to jump on, and water guns to fight over in Allison, Wesley and Chloe's backyard that can only be described as kid-inspired and kid-friendly wonderland.

But, at around 3:30, I heard the familiar siren song of a four year old calling from the yard. Elizabeth had either stubbed her toe, decked David, Wesley, or both, or tripped ... no matter the cause, she was weeping. Arms outstretched, she pleaded to me for an "Up Up!" and gazing at me with tear-filled blue-green eyes. I was a gonner. How could I resist?

We tucked into the large, comfy leather chair in their den, and Elizabeth curled up in my lap. I was secretly breathing a quiet prayer that she would fall asleep in my arms.

Wish granted: within 10 minutes, she was out like a light. My wonderful mother-in-law, Mary, quietly brought over a little blanket and draped it over Elizabeth, whispering, "I just want to cover her little piggies!" Within another 10 minutes, I was asleep, too.

I think that was probably one of the most wonderful snoozes that Elizabeth and I have ever taken together. I sat there, in the leather chair that refused to let go of its comfy grip on me, relishing how wonderfully small, sweet and innocent Elizabeth felt in my arms. I tried not to think too much about the fact that, one day soon, she'd be too big to do this. I tried banish from my mind the notion that when she's a teenager, she might not even want to be in the same room as I. I tried to stay present in the moment, and looked upon the sweet face of my beautiful little girl who, eyes closed, and binkie firmly between her lips, slumbered peacefully in my arms.