Early mornings, I watch you sleep on your Dad’s chest as I get ready for work. Your internal alarm going off around 7:20am each day… squinty eyes as your head whips back and forth checking out the room. As if you’re taking inventory of anything you missed while sleeping. I laugh every time.
We sing the ABC’s and get you dressed for school.
Gus hops in the back of the car as the three of you pull out ahead of me each morning. Commuting together most of the way, in separate cars. Waving as you make the left turn and I continue on.
I stare at your picture on my desk, and run yellow lights on my way to get you each evening. We talk about our days while sitting in traffic, and name all the things we see outside the car window. Sometimes you’ll sleep and I’ll ride in silence… peeking back at each light to watch you in the mirror.
We walk in as Dad is getting your bottles ready for the next day and I unload the used ones. A familiar routine, day in and day out. I place you in your bouncer, you jump and squeal, listening as we talk about our days, all the while giving us a good laugh as we watch you position yourself just right in the door way of the dining room and kitchen, so you can see into the den and watch the TV. Sneaky buddy! Aside from the weekend, early evening (and sometimes early morning) is just about the only time I’m nursing you these days, and I’ve surprised myself lately by how much I look forward to that time together. (I had zero expectations for how that relationship might work for us.. and maybe that’s been the key to our success as I continue into month 5. It’s hard. It’s all-consuming. It’s so worth it.)
You grow tired and rub your eyes, but generally refuse to sleep. We mix up your cereal and laugh as you grab at the spoon, and more recently, try to lick the bowl and toss it around once you’re finished! I run the water while Dad gets you ready for a bath. We recently switched you to the “infant” side of the tiny tub, no longer a newborn. You love to kick your legs and splash the water around. Seeing you in the animal bath towels is my favorite… your blue eyes popping against the blue of the elephant that sits atop your head. We quickly dry you off and get you into a fresh set of pajamas and a sleep sac for the night. We lay you on the floor and watch as you bang on the musical turtle; when you are tired of that it’s Goodnight Moon and Sheep in a Jeep — right now you’re less into the content and more into turning the pages (and eating them). Dad takes you downstairs for one last “big” bottle as I get things ready for the next day. Some nights you fall asleep as you finish the last drops and other nights I hold you tight as we rock back and forth in the quiet of your room.
You don’t sleep much. And Dad is SO good about sitting with you in those late/early (long) hours of the night. We know you’ll get the hang of it someday… only because we’ve yet to hear of anyone going off to college with their rock ‘n play sleeper as a bed, or having to use their Mom or Dad as a pillow. There’s hope.
It’s morning again, I see your face; and this routine that wasn’t a few months ago, will soon be something else.
Two more flights and two little bottom teeth, “solid” food and weekends away were the highlights of month four.
Here we go # 5!
I love you,