Oh the wailing

Last night Tom put the boys to bed. He readied their toothbrushes, read the books, did the requisite chatting, then said good-night.
Then the wailing started. Dean, over and over and over, "Daaaaaaddddeeeeeeee". Repeat. Again.
Next, Jack comes out complaining because Dean called him a name. I told him that Dean was just cranky (totally bipolar last night) and he should just ignore him. He goes back in the room and then he starts wailing, "Moooommmmmmmeeeeeee". Repeat. Again.
All together now. . .

So. I go in, they scramble to me as I climb onto the bed, each trying to get as close to me as possible and if full body contact isn't an option, any body part will do. There are arms wrapped around my torse, legs wrapped around mine, heads buried into my chest. I don't know where one child ends and the other begins.

Why are you so upset, I ask? Dean answers first. "I'm sad because I just don't know why things have to change? Why does the moon have to come up every night? I just want it to be daytime". Whoa - where to start? I tell him that night time is when his body rests so it can keep growing big and strong. Sleeping allows his brain to rest and grow so he'll be smart and kind. I tell him that change is a wonderful thing and that each day is another opportunity for him to grow, to learn, and have fun and that he should enjoy every single day.

Then Jack starts crying. What's wrong, I say? He tells me, "I just don't want anyone to ever die." Ohhhhkaaaay. Another doozy. I tell him as gently as possible, "Everyone dies. Dying is a part of life and there's nothing we can do to change it. The best thing we can do is enjoy every moment of our lives, cherish our time with our loved ones, and have fun with our friends."

We fell asleep. Jack with his head nuzzled against my chest, his arms around my waist, our legs intertwined and Dean spooning him with his head tucked into the back of Jack's neck, his arm resting across Jack's body with his hand lying on my hip.

Oh, I love them so much it hurts.