SOL Day 3: nighttime snuggles

I hear the call loud and clear. I lie there quietly hoping my husband hears it louder and clearer, knowing perfectly well it’s my turn to answer. Who am I kidding? He wouldn’t hear if leprechauns were doing a jig on our headboard. I envy the way that man sleeps.

*sigh*

I answer the call with a groggy, half-closed eye thing going on. A bottle is quickly made–thank you, baby Keurig–and I grab the wailing mummy baby from his bed.

Actually, I should be grateful. This isn’t happening every night anymore. And luckily for userr…me–he saved this time for a Friday when we don’t have to be out the door as the sun begins to rise but the moon is still hanging high. I mean, I can have coffee in my PJs come morning, people. I may even get to drink it kinda hot.

I change his diaper as quickly as I can before he screams so loudly he wakes sleeping beauty-sister in the bedroom next door and we settle into the cozy glider. I always hate getting up but I love this quiet snuggle time. We cozy with a blanket-for-two and listen to the ever-present quiet rain coming from his magic machine that runs 24 hours a day. We can hear thunder storms coming from the machine next door–different strokes for different folks.

He begins to eat and immediately closes his eyes. Within moments, little man is sleeping but still dream feeding. I always find that funny. There are things you can get away with as a baby that people would question your sanity for as an adult: eating while sleeping, pooping while eating, crapping in the bathtub.

He actually finished a while ago but seems too cozy to move back into the bed. This is where I get into trouble every time: I hold him longer than I should missing out on my own precious sleep. I can sleep when I’m dead–right? I won’t be getting these baby moments back once he’s just a bit older.

I squeeze him a little tighter, rock him a little longer and drink in the smell of him. He smells different than McKenna. He smells like George. Each child has their own sweet scent known to probably only The Mama. But I could pick them out of a blindfolded sniffing line up–no gross stuff please. He’s a loud sleeper–cooing and jabbering gibberish most of the night through. That’s why he moved to his own sleeping quarters maybe a little earlier than some.

Just as I am about to put him into his crib, he gives me a little smile and I know he’s talking to his angels, again. Sadly–for the rest of us–he has many angels so missed here on earth. I take some comfort knowing that he’s being watched over by so many seasoned ladies.

Tell them I said hi.

I tip-toe back to bed hoping the call doesn’t come again but remembering that these moment are numbered. It’s not so bad as long as there is caffeine when the sun comes out.

I am writing for the Two Writing Teachers March Writing Challenge

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12 Comments

  1. Oh my goodness I love every delicious line in this post! Is it crazy that I wish for some of those wake-you-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-feeding-snuggles?! So true that the moments are numbered. And yep, have the husband that somehow never heard our baby, even when I would hold the monitor to his ear! Quite a talent. Also love the “different strokes for different folks” sound machine choices! Hope you get some sleep…and a few more midnight moments.

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  2. What a sweet face! And yes- time after time
    I’ve heard men tend to be great sleepers and the mamas hear everything. I know this day will eventually come for me. So many sleepless nights, and so much to look forward to! You’re right, those nights won’t last forever. So sweet moments you share with your baby in the middle of the night.

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  3. Oh how I remember those nights. I especially remember rocking and snuggling my babies past when they were asleep… becuase I knew the baby time would one day be over.

    Loved the side italic comments of your slice! Hope you got your coffee! 🙂

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  4. Obv I’m so biased reading this it’s not even fair. But could anyone possibly love this child more? I mean. Come on. George is an angel and what a truly beautiful memory you’ve captured so succinctly here. Isn’t it weird now that you’ve forbidden two how quickly these routines actually do fade, eventually being rewritten by other memories which are just as trying and just as special? You’ve got lots of time, mama and both of your kids are just heaven to see and be around. I’m hearing your voice – your jokes, your tenor when you write this year and it’s fab. Keep at it. So glad to see you slicing again this year!

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  5. I was immediately transported back to the midnight feeding night with both kids! I must admit those snuggles were more energizing than coffee most days and I miss that beautiful baby smell! This slice just jumped out and spoke to me!

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