Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Please, Just Five More Minutes:Saga of a Tired Mother

So there you are, it's warm, the breeze is flowing through the palm trees, and who is sitting next to you? Why, it's your husband looking better than he has in a long time. He smiles at you and hands you a cold drink, it's something smooth and willingly spike with alcohol. Sweetly he whispers to you that he loves you to which you reply the same. Then, you close your eyes, and take in a deep breath of fresh air; it smells sweet like a much needed vacation. Mixed with the tropical breeze you hear something familiar in the distance…your body perks up…it’s coming in louder and louder. Oh no, please no, just five more minutes in paradise. Please baby boy, don’t be waking up…not at…you roll over, eyes half open, barely able to read the little red seven and three-zero that follows it. You close your eyes tight, trying to return to that breeze all while telling yourself he’s just moving about, he’ll be back to sleep in no time. He knows what time it is…right? Please baby boy let me make it to eight-thirty. Then it happens, the silent calm before the storm. The moment you actually believe, despite how many times it happens, that he’s going back to sleep. You relax and ease your body back into your comfortable bed when SNAP! Oh man, he’s begun to make noises that sound more like a puppy than a ten month old boy. He’s having fun while you’re silently pleading for him to stay asleep. Again you attempt to go back to your slumber, wishing that someone else could get him up this time, all while knowing it’s your job, a job you wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world. You open your eyes, blinking once then twice, trying to wake yourself. You know exactly what will make him happy. You smile. He’s all yours, your creation, a baby boy who looks to you for happiness. The same boy who takes a crying cue from you when he’s hurt himself. You want more sleep. You love your sleep, but you love him even more. You’re willing to give up everything for one smile from his small lips. You love his laugh when you’ve been tickling him, his smell after he’s done with his bath, and the way he learns something new everyday. You know you’d never trade more sleep for the chance to see everything anew through his eyes. So, as you listen to him squawk and yelp you smile, and while he doesn’t shout “mama” perfectly yet or crawl to your bedside you know he needs you. He’s filled his nightly quota of sleep, and the boss is now telling you break times over. “Don’t worry mom,” you read in his puppy like coos. “Nap time’s just a few hours away.”

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