One night last week you ended up in bed with us. I brought you there. Because lying down was more important to me than making sure you know your crib is where you sleep. You know that.
You know so much.
When you’re in the bed I don’t sleep as well. I’m aware always of where you are, that you have space to breathe , no pillows in the way. Not too close to the brick wall behind the bed. Sometimes you cuddle close and then you flop around. I think you’re restless too, in bed with us, at least at first. But you tend to be quiet there. You know you’re safe. With your people.
Watching you wake up in the morning I think of baby animals. It’s a process. Stretching and little cooing sounds. Back to sleep for five more minutes. Hips in the air, then feet flung over one of us. And then finally, sitting up with a big smile. “Uh oh”. Softly. Your favourite word these days, at fourteen months. Sometimes you get the context right. Other times you unintentionally hit on adult irony. Baby’s up… uh oh!
Yesterday I came home from work and you said the other word. “Mummy”. For the first time! All through dinner and bath time and bedtime mischief. “Mummy”.
Sometimes I get down and I think the world is leaving me behind while it makes plans for Saturday night, or exotic vacations, or career advancement. Or anything. When I’m exhausted and uncertain and overwhelmed. But then you say my name in your sweet little voice, you cuddle in close in my bed where I held you the day we brought you home (and in utero for nine months before that). And everything is right and perfect.
I guess I’m realizing something about the world: that it’s too big anyway. And the best thing I can do is concentrate and creating my own little world. That matters to me. And right now you, my darling, are in the centre of it.