It's 3:45am. I have been awake for almost 2 hours now. This doesn't please me. I was hoping that tonight I would sleep soundly and wake refreshed and renewed. That isn't happening. I will probably wake (assuming I fall asleep again) agitated, with a coffee cup in my hand. On days like the one I am about to face I like to call it survival juice.
In my 2 hours of being awake I have laid very stil trying to fall back to sleep, facebook has been thoroughly snooped. I've been the creepy spouse watching my husband sleep. Ive made multiple bathroom runs, caught up on some email responses and googled current events. I've tried to plan the week ahead of me, thought I was in labour, cried a little, thought of witty comebacks to fictitious comments and scenarios. I have picked out my clothes for work today, thought through my options for lunch, tried to figure out how 1 waffle will feed 4 people (thank God for fractions) and adjusted my pillow multiple times.
Now I'm blogging.
While I've been trying to take my mind off of the reality that keeps me awake I hear something breaking through this dark, peaceful time of our day that most of us miss because we are asleep. From down the hall I hear noises. There are sounds of laughter, some chatting, banging of the crib by little chubby feet.
My 2 1/2 year old is asleep in his room and I am experiencing his night time adventure just by laying here. Things I never even thought of before because I
was too tired, too busy, too selfish I am hearing, maybe not for the first time but I am appreciating it at this crazy hour.
He's so precious. As I listen to him sleeping he isn't just this minature person who cant use a toilet and tags along every where we go, he's human. He dreams st night like we do and laughs about them. He chats in his sleep just like his daddy. He wakes up and feels safe enough to roll over and go back to sleep. He's growing up and maturing.
I remember lots of nights hearing him wake and feeling nauseous because I knew I was going to be awake for the next 2-3 hours, trying to make my creative juices flow so I could comfort, soothe and lull my unsettled, insecure baby back to sleep.
Now I am laying here, partly of my own will taking in his sounds. Finding pleasure in his night time babble. Part of me wants to go down the hall and watch him because I have fallen in love with this boy again. As I lay here I can picture how adorable he must look in his little Elmo pj's all snuggly in his bed. While I feel all warm and fuzzy about my sweet boy the other part of me wants to slap that idea out of my head and maybe hit hard enough to put me back to sleep.
Im having a proud mom moment. Something good has come out of my inability to sleep tonight. I have listened to my son in peace. His relaxed noises have let me know he feels safe and finds comfort in our home. He enjoys his sleep and has little to no fear of his surroundings. I had a part in that. All those nights of rocking and singing to him, rubbing his back, talking to him, holding him and walking the floor has paid off. Those hours of love poured out while sleep was lost created something beautiful. My precious little man feels secure.
That's a proud 4:09am mom moment.