It was dark in the messy room, soft classical music played in the background, converting the silence into a lull of slumber. I stepped side to side, swaying into a steady dance to the wisps and whirs and the soft piano of the midnight sonata. My arms felt heavy as I supported the weight of my son. His head resting on my shoulder breathing into the nape of my neck. Warm baby breaths in and out, in and out, hush, hush, hush, steady. His arms resting gently on my shoulders, It was bedtime. I continued to sway , lavender and chamomile filling my senses. My son, his scent. From his bubble bath, he had less than an hour before. "Oh how he loves his baths." I had to smile recalling the memory and hugged him tight. Hush, hush, sigh…he breathed calm and steady as I swayed there, dancing. I was calm in this moment, swaying to the piano with my son in my arms. Closing my eyes I can smell the lavender, fell the music and my son against my breast breathing steadily. Hush, hush. I was a princess with my child prince dancing to the night, the songs of the winds against the sea, and the crash of the ocean against the shore. We swayed and danced, dreaming.
"Mum…" my son was looking up and me, his big brown eyes heavy with sleep, his head still resting on my shoulder, his blond hair askew in a messy style. "Mum, bobble…" he asked me in a raspy tired voice as he pointed to the general direction behind him. Still resting and cuddling, dancing in the messy nursery. No longer were we in a distant Kingdom dancing to the orchestras of old, dancing in a vast ballroom cascaded in lulling music and lavender.
I kissed my sons forehead; I could feel the warmth of his skin against my lips his sleepiness radiating from his entire being, I hugged him before placing him in his crib.
"Mum, bobble." He reached toward me and I grabbed his bottle from its resting place atop the dresser and handed him is water.
"I love you, my prince." I caressed his forehead and tucked the blankets over him putting him to sleep for the night. He waved his little me as he drank his water. I kissed his fingers before waving back, good night. Breathing in one last whiff of his sent, lavender and chamomile, I proceeded to leave him to his dreams of castles, prince hood, and a cascade of lavender, in a vast ballroom, where he could dance with his princess, or his prince, His true love. For now, it was time to rest and allow the mysteries of the night do their bidding while we dreamed.
"Mum," I turned around and looked my son, pressing his face to the bars of the crib, with bottle in hand and big brown eyes seeming to glow sleepily in the darkness "I ove ooo."