Security

Thunder has always fascinated me.
There's no other sound I can think of that I experience on a regular basis that doesn't originate somewhere tangible.
Light, particles, electricity - that's cool, too. But really, when I think about light, I'm more dumbfounded by a lightbulb than by lightning. Guess I'm just used to bright stuff coming out of the sky.
But sound? Seriously. That's amazing.

One of the longest, most intense storms of my life blew through last night.
I didn't hear the storm at first, but Ben did.
I woke up to his fussing in the monitor, only to realize that it was thunder woke him.
I rocked him for a short bit, waiting for the storm to pass.
When it was clear it was going to be a long night, I brought him back to bed with me.

Laying there awake, watching the light display, I couldn't help but remember laying in between my parents on scary nights. The same clap of thunder that can feel like the end of the world in a room alone is nothing more than an annoyingly loud noise when you're nestled between the two most important people in your life. I remember praying that my dad would fall asleep before the storm ended so that I wouldn't have to go back to bed alone.

Last night for the first time, I got a glimpse of what it was like for them. With all our windows open (Oh, how I love June), the thunder was so loud and so sharp that with each clap, Ben would jolt up like a popcorn kernel exploding. He was so zonked that he never opened his eyes, but he would reach to touch my arm, or leg. As soon as he was sure of my presence, he settled back in.

When he was first born, I felt like a pregnant lady who gave birth. Not long after that, I became a mother - in the Hallmark sense of the word. You know, "You give so much and expect so little in return" kind of thing. I'm just now starting to feel like a mommy. By mommy I mean Ben's favorite person on earth. His security.

I'm here to tell you that's the best feeling in the world.