She smiled at me from behind her tower of blocks. Beautiful blue eyes seemed to dance across her face. Her soft face hid away again, playing another round of peek-a-boo with me. I looked over the blocks to see her covering her mouth, stifling a giggle. I reached over to her and tickled her. Laughter bounded out of us as the blocks tumbled across the floor.
"Okay, little darling. Mama's got some work to do on her computer. You play here, and I'll be in the next room."
She's six years old and still I'm not used to be called Mommy. It tickles my heart and weirds me out all at the same time. I go into the next room, where my laptop is set up. I turn it on and get started on some work. I trudge through paying some bills and going through the ton of e-mails I've received from the past two days. I check the clock on the wall and realize that nearly an hour has passed and it's been quiet in my daughter's room. Sometimes, quiet means she's being mischevious. My mind wanders. Maybe she's colored her walls. Maybe she climbed atop her dresser and is getting a hold of the monitor in her room. Maybe she was able to take the new plugs out of her electric sockets and she's been electrocuted. I stopped with the "maybe's" in my head and got up from my laptop. I tiptoe to her room.
I don't see her right away. The blocks are pretty much where they were in the midst of our tickle fest. I look to the other side of her room, near her closet. There she is. Lying on her Disney Princess rug on her side. Her soft blue eyes are closed. I think of Aurora, the Sleeping Beauty on her rug. I kiss her cheek. She does not stir. I find her a blanket and cover her. "Sleep well, my princess."