Take a deep breath. Close your eyes.
We’re in a park, lying on a blanket beneath a tree. We just finished a picnic lunch. What did we eat? We had cheese sandwiches and chips and…strawberry shortcake? No? How about apple pie? Okay, cookies then. Cookies and ice-cold milk. We had a picnic lunch of sandwiches and chips and cookies, and now we’re lying on the blanket resting.
What do you smell?
I smell beautiful flowers. And trees. We’re in the shade of some of those trees, on our blanket. I smell warm earth, cool green grass, clean air. Do you smell that? It smells so lovely. I smell sweet cookies on your breath.
What do you feel?
I feel the soft blanket we’re laying on, spread across thick green grass. How comfy it is, laying here. I feel you, snuggled up against me. I feel how comfortably full we are from our picnic lunch. I feel a warm, gentle breeze.
At this point, I blow gently on his hair. It makes him smile.
What do you hear?
I hear birds singing in the trees above us. Far off, I hear children playing. I hear the wind ruffling the leaves. I hear the water in the lake lapping at the shore. I hear fish splashing at the surface. Is there a turtle in there, as well? I believe there is.
What do you see?
The sky is bright blue with fat, puffy clouds; it’s so bright that almost hurts to look at it. The trees sway gently in the breeze. I see the blue blanket beneath us, spread out on the green grass. I see the light glimmering on the water. I see flowers — pink and orange and purple and yellow. I see you closing your eyes against that bright sky, dozing off.
We have nowhere to be. We have nothing to do. Nobody’s waiting on us. We can lay here as long as we want, smelling the flowers and listening to the waves and feeling the breeze in our hair. We are in no hurry. We are warm, and fed, and comfortable, and nothing hurts. Mommy is here. Mommy will keep you safe.
Just rest for a while. When you get up, we’ll play.