My Bones Are Talking

My bones are talking to me
I, like a lot of parents, have an uncanny ability to KNOW. There is an energy that tells my bones when something isn't right with my kids. I didn't have it so much when they were little. Probably because they were so dependent. When they were little I played on opportunities to show the all knowing, omnipresence of Mom. I had them convinced that I could tell if they were lying if they stuck out their tongue. I don't remember how I started that or convinced them it was true. They would play in the family room while I was in the kitchen and I would point out something they were doing. I couldn't see them from the kitchen, but there was a picture on the opposite wall that I could see their reflection in. I would hear them whispering, "how does she do that." I never gave up my secrets on how I knew things. Mom just knows. Side note, I told Jayden recently that Grandma knows everything. Nathan said, "yes, but you forget it all." The truth from the mouth of babes. As they got older, I did start to KNOW things. Not anything I can explain. A couple of years after my divorce, Bill and I were going through a difficult time. Our divorce was amicable and he's a good man, but we had a few less than easy times. This time, I was going to bed and I was very mad at him. I thought to myself, I wish he would move to CT and leave us alone. The next morning Lisa got up and told me she had a dream that Dad moved to CT. I had a dream about five years ago that I had a baby girl. Two nights later I had a different dream but the same theme. I had a baby girl. The next day, Ryan said he needed a Mommy Talk. A Mommy Talk is when I have some profound wisdom that I believe needs to be shared, or if the kids have some issue they need advice on. When I say Mommy Talk, their eyes roll and their body's slump. When they say Mommy Talk, I jump up and down, clap my hands, thinking oh they need me, they need me. This Mommy Talk was to tell me his girlfriend was pregnant. I said, "It's a girl." I knew at that moment what that dream was about. Ryan was sure it was a boy. We debated the gender all the way up to the day of the sonogram. Her name is Jayden. I get a feeling. Can't explain it. Just a feeling. When the feeling becomes stronger, I call the subject of my feeling and tell them, "My bones are talking to me." They never deny me the truth when I tell them my bones are talking to me. They know as well as I do that my bones don't lie. Ryan was the most recent subject of my bones. I called. I said it. The phone went silent. Then he owned up to the source of the talking bones.