I'll give you the shiny moon

In countless mornings of motherhood, I wake up in a frozen fog.  If I could open my eyes wide enough to look out the window, I'd frequently find the literal patches of these ground-gracing clouds outside, brushing and blurring the horizon.  But it's the figurative fog that finds me every morning, rain or shine, and circles round my head like a vulture on those poor little brain cells that didn't make it through the night.   

Maybe I'm foggy and groggy because I stayed up too late, or the children took turns needing me all night, or we started our day before night had officially concluded, or all of the above.  You might be thinking, "Sheesh, for someone who can't think straight, you sure think up a lot of reasons why you can't think straight."  

That very thought crossed my mind too; then it veered off to the left and got lost.

This morning, still stuck in the can't-see-my-hand-in-front-of-my-face brain cloud,  I overheard this exchange:

C: "Oh, would you just LOOK at that moon.  It is soooo shiny!  Dani, you gotta come see this.  See that there, up in the sky?  Yes, that's it, baby girl, that's the moooon!"

D: "Da mooon? Mommy, I see da moooon!"

C: "Yeah, and this morning it is just so shiny I can barely believe it."

And that, my friends, was all the sunshine it took to burn straight through my frozen fog.  Right then and there I would have promised them the moon.  A really shiny one that they could barely believe.