Why am I uploading all these old fics? Oh well. Enjoy!

I lay in his arms as sunlight filters in through the windows. I listen to his constant sturdy breathing that's always brought me peace, and comfort. Outside I can hear the animals, ready for the new day. The cows are already mooing, anxious to be milked. I turn my head to the clock beside our bed. 5:45. He's late. Oh, well, let him sleep in. The cows can wait.

But he's already stirring. He rolls to his side, releasing me as he does. Slowly he sits up next to me. I turn over to face him and prop myself up on my elbow. He's still sleepy, and I smile. Eventually his eyes open and contact with mine. Goodness, his eyes are beautiful.

"Hey there." He says in a gruff, unused voice.
"Hi." I reply.

He leans down to kiss me. Short and sweet. Then he gets up and stretches. I lay back down and watch while he dresses. He's incredibly fit, one would have to be, on a farm like this. He runs almost all of it himself. Of course, I help where I can, but he does most of the labor intensive jobs.

Although, he did tell me he let Clark chop some firewood the other day. I'll have to talk to him about that one. Clark's only six for goodness sakes. We should hire more hands. But we just can't. Not with Clark around. He doesn't have full control of his abilities just yet. And especially not with that thing in the cellar.

Jonathan finishes getting dressed and kisses me goodbye. I'll see him in an hour or so for breakfast, but I still don't like being separated from him for any amount of time. I love him so much.

I lay there listening to the quiet of the house that Jonathan's grandfather built. It's a beautiful house, yellow, my favorite color. Everything's so warm and inviting. I get up, shower and get dressed. No plaid for me. Occasionally I'll wear one of Jonathan's shirts, but plaid's definitely not for me. Just because I'm a farmer's wife, doesn't mean I have to look like it.

I go to Clark's room and stand in his doorway. His room is a mess. And it looks like he was playing with his ninja turtle action figures last night, after I had already tucked him in. They're spread all over his floor. Sometimes I swear that child can see in the dark. Then again, that wouldn't surprise me.

He lies there, softly snoring. In his blue power ranger pajamas, under a dull red cotton sheet. One of his feet dangles off the edge of the bed. I sigh, and smile as I lean against the door frame. How can this precious little angel not be human? I've thought the same thing for the past three years, ever since he found us that fateful day.

"Clark. Clark. It's time to get up sweetie." He moans as a sign he's heard me. I chuckle to myself and head down-stairs.

I love to cook. Which is strange. No one on my side of the family likes to cook. I hated it when I first married Jonathan. But over the years, I guess its grown on me. Sort of an outlet to get away from the world. Just like farmwork. Pancakes with fresh berries and cream, scrambled eggs, and sizzling bacon. Thank goodness I wasn't a vegetarian when I met Jonathan, The Kent men sure did love their meat.

I hear strange sounds upstairs, telling me my son is up and ready for the day. And probably using his super-speed, even though I've told him countless times not to run indoors, until he's got a better handle on it. Jonathan and I actually had to cover over a wall with a Clark sized hole in the middle of it from two years ago.

I hear a crash and my eyebrows raise up, while I continue to mix my pancake batter. I wonder what's broken now. It's not that Clark's clumsy, it's just that he's a little too fast and a little too strong for his own good.

That's why Jonathan and I were so worried to send him to public school. We were extremely worried. Something would happen, where he'd accidently used his powers, and someone more qualified to handle him would take him away. Jonathan and I talked long and hard about it for a long time. We talk long and hard about all things concerning Clark all the time. There are so many decisions we have to make with various consequences in mind that other parents barely consider.

I worry about him. That's for sure. And I pray to God, he'll be careful and not reveal anything. He doesn't understand why sometimes. Why he can't show Pete, or Greg, or even Lana about his natural born powers. Why it's incredibly dangerous. Why his friends aren't allowed over very often except for Lana, or why he can never go over to play at their homes.

Him being at school is stressful enough for Jonathan and I. We can only take one step at a time. How do you explain to a six year old the answer to all these questions without letting him know he's not human? No, Jonathan and I haven't talked to him about that aspect of his origins, I wonder if he remembers anything about where he comes from. We don't know if we ever will tell him. He's not old enough to shoulder that kind of a burden of knowledge right now. I don't know if he ever will be. Would anyone be able to? At what age do you tell someone something that life changing?