Magic In The Night

**Edited to add a Youtube video**
At the end of a long, hard day I make my way up the steps to take my place next to my beloved.
Nothing feels better than my side of the bed, feeling the warm, electric skin of my man on his side. It's what keeps me hanging on.

The steps lead me to my peaceful spot.
And as I ascend, ghosts of the day travel them with me.
Countless trips up and down them by clopping kid feet.
It reverberates and haunts - these apparitions that flash by and through me as I make my way up to the spot that is calling me.
I can hear the echo of a giggle or a jump from the last step to the living room floor.
But I know my kids are safe and sound asleep in their beds.

My kids.
My kids.
My kids.

They are kids.
As much as I hold on to the last shred of baby that they may still carry hidden.
It's the baby in them that only I can see, as their mom.
Their mom.
Their mom.
Their mom.

Sometimes I long to hold their little tiny baby butts in my arms.
To feel that soft, hard lump on my forearm.
To smell their baby smell.
To touch their baby cheeks.

I reach the top of the steps and all these thoughts float and disappear into the air with the ghosts of the day.
And I stand in front of two doors.
One is my refuge.
And one is full of magic.

The magic of what happens in the night when peace washes over these kids. My kids.
The magic that transforms them from the kids they are becoming
and shines a light onto the babies that are still there on the inside and by some trick you can still see only when they sleep.

It is a secret that I've kept and have now unearthed.
The magic that I see in the night.
To revisit that babyhood.
For only a minute before I bed down next to my love.
The love and the man that helped create that magic.