Last night/this morning at 3:30 a.m. Maia was wide awake. I heard Sarah say, “It’s time for sleep Maia!” as she pushed Maia over to my side of the bed. “She’s been awake for hours!” Sarah said and she rolled over and covered herself up signaling the passing of the “put-the- kid-to-sleep”. I sat there for a moment hoping that Sarah was exaggerating and that Maia would just drift off to sleep once she felt the warmth of her papa’s arm…right, fat chance. She was wiggling. She was arching her back. She was groaning, squealing, and talking. She was wide awake indeed.
I got out of bed and began to gently rock her and she quieted right down. After about five minutes she began arching her back and fussing for Mama. I figured it had been just enough time to remind her of what she was missing out on, and put her back in bed, next to Sarah to nurse, which she did, and then she started to drift off to sleep. “Hey, that was pretty easy!” I thought to myself and began to doze off.
Five minutes later I felt Sarah slide Maia back over to my side. First attempt failed—round two. I immediately got up, began rocking and singing softly, “Go to sleep little Maia…” and again, Maia quieted right down. And again, five minutes later, began fussing and arching her back. Sarah suggested I turn on the bathroom light—because Maia likes to be able to see what’s going on—and get the sling. So I turned on the light and Maia sneezed—as she always does when the light goes on at night; funny huh?—and I got the sling and put Maia inside. She was definitely more at peace and she began to groan/mumble. On and on she went. Then she put her wrist up to her mouth and continued on, now making a buzzing sound with her saliva against her wrist. I stayed quiet and just listened and rocked as Maia continued to make these noises which were getting softer and softer. At that moment it struck me, maybe she just needed to get the day off her little chest? She was asleep when I got home from teaching at 10 p.m., and she hadn’t seen me in 15 hours, so maybe she just needed to tell me about her day in a groany, buzzy, sleepy-baby kind of way? She did this for about 10 minutes and konked out. It reminded me that even little babies that can’t “talk” need to just be listened to sometimes.
I set her back in bed and laid down myself. Ah, success. Thirty seconds had passed and then the friggin cat walks in and starts clawing at my side of the bed and then threatens to knock things off the dresser if I don’t give him some lovin’. What can I say? Maybe the kids just really missed me yesterday? I grabbed my pillow and headed out to the living room floor so Miko wouldn’t wake Maia up. In an hour-and-half Keana would up and I had to get some sleep. Before I knew it the sun was up, Keana was calling, and there was a fur ball curled up by feet. As I shook off the stiff neck/back/shoulders I thought, “Man! That was rough. Good morning Wednesday, guess we better get this thing rolling.”