Page 1 of Dream with Me

CHAPTER1

SHANNON

The blaring car horns and tapping on my shoulder jolt me awake.

I’m physically exhausted. That’s probably how, despite my toddler yelling at the top of his lungs at the injustice of being forced to sit in his car seat, I fell asleep while resting my eyes in the school pick-up line. We’re waiting for my two older kids to get out of school. My second to youngest, Chelsea, was the one tapping on my shoulder, alerting me to the honking horns coming from behind me. Thus, ending my mini snooze.

My only excuse is that I’m the mom of four kids, and there are never enough hours in the day to get everything doneandget enough rest. So, I’m wiped out. Heck, it’s only three-thirty p.m., and I feel like I’ve already put in an entire day.

Troy—my husband—has been on shift at the firehouse since this morning, so I’m essentially a single mom until he gets off work at eight a.m. tomorrow. This morning, like most, was chaotic getting our four kids up, fed, and dressed, then getting the three older ones off to school. After that, I spent the day trying to catch up on laundry and keeping our house somewhat clean, all while entertaining our three-and-a-half-year-old bundle of energy, Chase.

As I move up in the line of cars, almost to the front, I chuckle about how aptly named my boy is. I spend half of my time chasing him around the house and the playground. Pretty much anywhere we go, the little speedster is on the run. He’s full of endless energy.

Chase is an enigma of a child. I thought I had motherhood down pat by the time he came along, but Chase proved me wrong. Like naps. The child rarely naps. All my other kids were predictable, and I was able to put them down for midday rests. It helped me have time to get things done around the house. It also gave me time to sit in the gorgeous oak rocker with rich walnut trim Troy built me. He surprised me with it a week before our oldest, Olivia, was born, and it’s adorned our nursery through all four of my babies.

My eyes tear up a little, thinking about the times over the years I’ve been able to sit in that chair and watch our children sleep like angels. I very rarely get that with Chase unless I stay up late at night, and I’m too drained for that.

A minute or two later, we’re finally at the front of the line, and Oliver and Olivia jump in the car. Olivia is quick to claim the front seat, reminding Oliver she’s the oldest. My quiet, agreeable boy, Oliver, climbs in back next to Chase. In his elation at seeing his brother, Chase forgets about the fact he’s in the car seat. Thank God.

After we get home and the older two kids work on their homework, I feed them all a quick dinner of macaroni and cheese with chicken and some broccoli. Before I know it, it’s time for us to rush off to get Olivia to dance class and Oliver to his soccer game.

I can’t be in two places at once, so my sister, Shyley, will pick Olivia up from dance for me since Oliver has his soccer game. I figured it would be more manageable to be at a soccer field, where Chase can bounce, run, and play, and Chelsea, our second youngest and my mini-me, can sit on a blanket and get lost in her books. Yes, that’s definitely easier than trying to entertain the younger two in a small dance studio waiting room.

A little later, I realized I was wrong because my three-and-a-half-year-old is fast. So, even though he’s excited and running around near where we sit, I think I can keep up with him. He quickly shows me I’m mistaken. I’m not quick enough when I notice he’s headed straight for the soccer field instead of playing on the sidelines. I stand up and call his name, and the little bugger stops right at the edge of the playing field, turns around, and smiles at me. An adorable giggle escapes him, and he calls, “Catch me, Mommy!” Then he takes off onto the field.

It takes a second for everyone around us to register there is now an illegal player on the field, racing away from me with a speed no child his age should possess. Again, an enigma. Humiliated and worried about him getting hurt, I ran onto the field after him.

Laughter fills the air around us as the game stops, and everyone watches me run after my boy while he darts around the players, waiting to get back to their game. I swear it’s like when you see a fan break onto the field at a professional soccer game on television, and security can’t catch them. Yep, that’s what I look like, I’m sure of it. Except instead of being security, I’m the mom dressed in shorts and an ill-fitting T-shirt with some mystery stain on it. My hair is in a frizzy ponytail, and I’m wearing a cheap pair of rubber clogs meant to look like Crocs. Hey, our money mostly goes to raising these four. This mama can get by with a pair of imitation shoes. I just wish I wasn’t wearing them for this display. Tennis shoes would have been so much more helpful today.

About two minutes into the game of cat and mouse, I’m almost in tears.

“Owlie, look at me!” Chase calls to his older brother—whom he idolizes—as he runs from me. Chase has never been able to say ‘Ollie,’ so when he could talk, it came out ‘Owlie.’ It stuck, and the whole family calls Oliver that now.

I glance over at my ten-year-old and feel like a jerk when I see how red his face is. Oliver is what I would consider contemplative, almost shy. Hehatesto be the center of attention. He has such a kind soul. If Chelsea is my mini-me, Oliver is Troy’s. I watch as Oliver kneels down and takes a deep breath.

“C’mere Chase,” Oliver calls. He holds his arms open, and Chase beelines for him.

Once caught in a bear hug from Oliver, Chase is all smiles as he rests his head on his brother’s shoulder. Oliver stands with the now angelic-looking toddler in his arms and meets me as I walk across the field to him.

“I’m so sorry, Ollie. I’ll take him.” I’m panting now. Geez, I definitely need to get back to working out. Maybe it would help with these twenty extra pounds I’ve been carryingandmy stamina.

Oliver shakes his head but doesn’t make eye contact with me.

“I’ve got it, Mom.”

I don’t want to make more of a scene by insisting I carry Chase, so I follow Oliver as he carries his brother off the field. I’m close on his heels, so I hear him when he mutters to himself, “He’ll just get away from you anyway and embarrass me again.”

My mom heart stings a little at the frustration in my sensitive boy’s voice. Frustration aimed at me.

When all is said and done, we survive the rest of the game without incident, mostly because Chelsea puts her book away and colors with Chase to distract him. Not wanting to risk him running off again, I kept a loose hold on his chunky little leg, so if he aimed to take off again, I’d have some warning.

When we get back to the house, Shyley is there and tells me Olivia is already showered and upstairs reading. I send Oliver off to take a shower, noticing that my sweet boy is starting to get that man-funk smell. My gosh, he’s only ten. It’s too soon.

“Hey, sis,” Shyley says. “How was the game?”

Before I can answer, Chase practically lurches out of my arms, trying to get to his aunt. Shyley is one of Chase’s favorite people. My brother Ben is, too, which is amusing because Chase is basically like the child version of Ben. A bundle of sunshine and energy that can make just about anyone smile.

“I pwayed soccer, Aunt Shywey,” Chase proudly tells her. Despite him being a filthy mess, Shyley doesn’t hesitate to pull him into her arms and snuggle him.

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