“Mommy! I think there’s a monster under my bed!”

I groan – the third time this week. I peel the comforter away from my body, leaving enough space to slither through without disturbing my husband. My eyelids sag, but I signed up for this. Arching, I yawn, sure that my ears will pop. “Mommy” – I pause, needing to hear every word, “Are you there?” Feeling guilty for taking so long, I speed my gait.

A night-light illuminates the path to his bedroom. I run my hand across the bureau as I continue towards him. Three potted plants suspend themselves from hooks secured on the wall and picture frames commemorate our various trips over the past five years. Hearing the clock’s ticking sounds, I suppress my urge to lie myself out along the soft fabric of the carpet.

As I round the corner, the first thing I notice is his crumpled body and his darting eyes. I close the space between the edge of his bed and me, leaning over to scoop him. “Mommy! I think there’s someone under my bed!” His horrified voice chips at my heart. “Don’t worry baby, I’m here, I’ll make it better.” His arms clench around my neck, his tears staining my shirt. I rock him, his head resting against my shoulder. Droplets form along the edges of my eyes; I can’t believe that he has already turned five. With each moment he’s becoming older, every second, every tick of the clock, getting closer to his teenage “falling out” days. Squeeze him. I want to squeeze him until his limbs compress, squeeze him until he’s incapable of growing, squeeze him until I can cradle him in my arms. A picture of him wearing a bib, trimmed with blue, and raising his cake coated fingers leans against the wall. His first tooth peeps from the center of his gum. The tears have started trickling down my face. I want my arms to intertwine, to hug him closer, to force his body to occupy less space, and to feel the strain of forcing bones and muscle to shrink. I want to be left with a baby, my baby.

He hiccups – I feel the vibration against my stomach. My mind snaps. I tuck his limp body into bed and stumble into the hallway. I run from the monsters tiptoeing behind me.