I know how many days it’s been since your last bath and whether or not we washed your hair.
I know when you last ate vegetables. I know how many cookies you’ve had.
No matter where I am in the house, I can hear you opening the fridge.
I know where your hairband is. I know where you left your mittens.
I know whether your nails need to be trimmed and I know how long to wait after you fall asleep so that I can clip them without waking you up.
I know you’ll never notice if I put this toy in the give-away pile. I know you will be devastated if I put that too-small shirt in the give-away pile.
I saw that! And I know you can hear me.
I know what that look means. You say you’re ok but you don’t feel ok.
I know you have to pee. I can tell.
I know that squiggly line on the page is really a robot arm.
I know that ever since Tuesday, it has become vitally important that you butter your own toast.
I know when “I’m not tired” means you’re not tired and when “I’m not tired” means please, please put me to bed right now.
I may close my eyes at night without having cleared the table or loaded the dishwasher or scrubbed the pots and pans. Without having put away the laundry or picked up the boots and jackets scattered by the front door. But I never close my eyes at night before making sure that the path you will walk at four or five in the morning between our two beds is clear of obstacles.
No matter how deeply I’m sleeping, I hear your footsteps in the hall and I know when you crawl in beside me. I know which one of you it is.
I know I haven’t brushed my hair.
I know I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes.
I know we all need an afternoon nap.
I know I’m not giving the person on the telephone my full attention because I see you reaching for the scissors.
My mommy brain is sharp. I’m not distracted and I haven’t lost my concentration.