June

Her hand rests upon his rising and falling chest as she stares into the colors of a wilting arrangement of early summer blooms. Tired isn't the right word. There is a quite maternal energy coursing through her. She listens for one son while she lifts the other out of his basket and onto her chest. Aware of the sleeping mistakes she made with the elder, she assures herself that she can still hold and sooth this thirteen day old without setting herself up for another sleep battlefield. "Surely I have three months or so of worry free cuddling," she thinks to herself.

Lifting her eyes she notices the even disbursement of toys across the living room floor. "This is evidence of a happy child who is free to LIVE here," she tells herself, wishing her husband could see the same thing.

Then she turns her gaze on the infant in her arms. She sees her nose, her husbands chin and eyebrows, and sweet sweet infant cheeks. His breathing is steady and even now, and for the moment the whole house is blanketed in stillness. The cats have found their napping spots and the sound of the bathroom fan hides the noise from the road outside.

She inhales deeply, thinking alternately about the beauty of her life and the unavoidable stress parenting causes on marriage. Outside the sun breaks out after the third rain shower of the morning. She realizes that she isn't tired, she is June with unpredictable sun and rain storms alternating to cause growth for harvest. She thinks of the blossoms on her tomato plants outside and smiles.