It’s 1:45am. I’m awakened by the unmistakeable sound of tiny toddler feet hitting the ground.
“Ugh, it’s only 1:45am and she’s out of bed,” I grumble loudly enough to wake my husband.
I put on my robe and walk down the hallway. She’s standing in her doorway with her “baaa” – a giant stuffed sheep that she has taken to snuggling with at night.
I put her back in bed, sit in the glider, and sing “row, row, row your boat” countless times- until she seems calm. I walk over to her and give her a kiss goodnight. Her eyes are open, but heavy.
For the next hour, I listen to her tossing and turning on the monitor. It mirrors my own restlessness and difficulty falling back to sleep.
As sleep finally approaches, I hear tiny toddler feet on the ground again. Sigh.
Mike offers to get up with her. I’m tempted to accept his offer.. But only one of us has a job that allows for midday naps.
Reluctantly, “I’ve got it.”
Back to her room, back to her bed, back to singing “row, row…”
Eyes tired, but still not closing. Hands in mouth. Ahhh, teething. I hate teething.
A kiss and a search for baby Tylenol.
I wake Mike once again to help me locate it (poor Mike… At least he can drink more than 1 cup of coffee…)
Tylenol administered and this time she snuggles with me and “Baaa” on the glider. I feel her little body get heavier and heavier with sleep.
My crankiness fades. At once, all the parenting mantras that people love to tell new parents go through my head… “The days are long but the years are fast…” “It goes so quickly”….
I hold her longer than I need to. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. Snuggles like this are rare. I don’t know how many more times we’ll have like this, snuggled close in the glider.
I finally put her in her bed.
This time we both fall back to sleep…Until she wakes up just a few short hours later.