Mommy! Rain!

Mommy! Rain!

His little voice is so afraid. I wish I knew where this fear came from- scared of even the sound of heavy rain fall. Is it just part of growing up? He had never shown signs of fear of rain until we had a loud storm one day. "Mommy, Rain!" he repeats as though I have magical powers to make even the weather all right.

I go into his room, stepping over the scattered toys we've forgotten to pick up and put away, pull back the curtain and show him that there is no rain- though even in the dimming daylight I can see a storm is coming. A toy leaning against his AC unit was rattling; the sound hushes when I move the toy. Ranger climbs back into bed and asks to be tucked in again.

 I tuck him in and promise to bring him some juice. It's a compromise I have stopped feeling guilty over.  He sometimes drinks the few ounces I give him, but mostly it seems to comfort him, to have a sippy to hold in his hands.  I slip the sippy into his hand while with the other hand he's holding onto his "magic wand" and pressing the button to make it light up. I'm not sure how he ended up with his cousin's circus toy. Maybe my nephew outgrew it. We use it every night to let him "read" a book to himself as he falls asleep. I think the real reason he wants to "read" to himself with the colorful light is because he's not comfortable in the darkness that the new curtains provide. Is it another developing fear? Or perhaps just something he is unused to?

I close his door and join E in our room, but before I have been sitting long enough to relax, I hear the cat yowl. Why the cat insists on getting closed in Ranger's room every night is beyond me. It bothers Ranger though- throughout the day he gets quite upset if the cat goes in his room.  The child seems to be getting more agitated with the cat and vice versa of late. I let the cat out of the room just as Ranger is whispering sleepily, "Mommy, close door"- his phrase of choice for demanding the cat leave his room.

I return to my room and sit down at the computer. I have no particular tasks in mind but the chair is perfect for my pregnant self. I begin marshaling my thoughts. Should I visit Amazon and add to my wish list? Ranger's, the baby's?

A quick flash, a loud boom, the sound of rain and all thoughts I have are flushed out by concern. Will he wake up and be afraid? Should I wait to shower to make sure he's really asleep? He's had a rough day- and it appears as though it's all caught up with him. There are no more sounds from his room, even when the storm sounds like it's right on top of us.

I am no fan of storms myself, and have been known to wake E up in the middle of the night to whimper under the pressing sounds of thunder and flashes of lightening. I try to remember when this fear started for me, and know only that it goes back as far as I can remember.

And for a moment, as I listen to the wind and rain and count the seconds between flash and sound, I think on how once upon a lifetime, I must have called out in the darkness, "Mommy! Rain!"