Friday, March 05, 2010


Last night I got to watch the kidlet fall asleep, like really, truly “one minute I’m awake, and the next I’m not anymore” fall asleep. As much as we want him to be able to fall asleep on his own, without one of us sitting in his room watching, these moments are precious and tender: his hands tucked under his chin, clutching the blanket, New-B, eyes fluttering and then not.

I watched his face loosen and calm as he settled into the folds of sleep. I watched as the hold on the blanket became not as fierce. I sat there, longer than I’d intended, watching.

It reminded me a bit of when he was first born, how we would watch him for hours, amazed and fascinated that he was ours, that he was real, that this bundle simply was at all, all of our tenderness summoned into a finger as we traced his ears, the swoop of his nose.

There are times, daily, when he pushes me to points of no return, points of frustration and irritation, when my exhaustion is highlighted and my patience as threadbare as an old quilt, though no less meaningful.

There was poetry in those moments last night when all was quiet save for the music that played. There was a delight of the moment when awake fluttered into asleep, and I dared not trace his ear, the swoop of his ear. So I whispered gently, “Love you, snugglebug. Sleep well,” and stole out of the room, my heart full.


PS (PSanafter-thought) said...

Last Wednesday, a mom and child were at our church supper. The boy, about 3, was in and out of sleep. It was fascinating to see that happen, while he was sitting upright. You can love them even more when you see that.

revhayes said...

I'm right there with you! While I'm sure that most people would think my girls are big enough to "fall asleep on their own", I cherish those book reading, snuggled close moments. Even my nine year old likes me to lay down beside her from time to time and talk her to sleep - and that's when she's most apt to open up about the worries and dramas of her day. Don't give it up!