the night

She’s fussing. Tired. I wrap her up in a warm blanket, cradle her against me & begin to rock.

I pace the house. Bouncing. Count my steps to pass the time. Hear her frantically sucking the soother. I’m willing her to fall sleep, so that I can sleep. Aching arms, rocking & bouncing.

Milk drunk hiccups.

She calms down, starts to settle so I try the rocking chair. Counting again, one hundred rocks aren’t enough. Maybe another hundred…

At long last, she lets go and relaxes against me. She’s out.

I look down at her through the darkness.

Angel face.

Don’t want to put her in her bed anymore. Linger a little longer holding her tight.

Finally, my own fatigue gets the better of me. I put her down.

Crawl into my own bed for as long as she will allow.


3 Responses to “the night”

  1. January 26, 2012 at 6:20 am

    Poet mother,
    I read your every word,
    Enjoy each moment
    Because I can’t say
    You get to cuddle your teenagers.

    • 2 mamaberg
      January 26, 2012 at 5:19 pm

      I truly do enjoy each day right now. I’m sure you’re right, but I hope to raise cuddly teenagers… is it possible?

  2. January 26, 2012 at 8:48 am

    So true… I too have spent many nights willing my little girl to sleep, only to stay awake watching her in amazement once she finally falls asleep.

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