The little man has the flu. Not much can stop the constant ball of energy that is 3, but this one has got him down. I spent the last couple of days snuggling with him at home, and tonight, ran out for an hour or so on my own to get some fresh air. When I got home, he asked me to come put him to bed. With the fever and flu related confusion, he’s been fixated on tigers, and needed me to keep him safe from the possible tiger invasion of his room. As he curled around my arm, tucking my wrist under his cheek, he let go of all his anxieties and started drifting off. I sat there, in the dark, contemplating this mystical power of motherhood. Where did it come from? How does it work? How is it that a simple hand, and a warm presence, is enough to soothe all those fears away?