The A.M's.

Its two a.m. and I hear Reveille stirring in the bassinet next to our bed.

She can't be awake right now....she just fell asleep at 10:30?

She'll usually sleep till at least 4-

But for the past couple of nights she has woken up for a big bottle at 2 a.m. and fallen asleep quickly after finishing.

I let her stir for awhile, while I pass in and out of sleep.

But its inevitable.

The hunger cry.


Part of me waits for that one cry to jump out of bed and run downstairs to get her bottle.  There is a sort of superhero feeling that comes with it while you makes a bottle and the house remains asleep.  You have the ability to do the correct amount of ounces- heat it to perfection- go up and down the stairs (without falling) give the bottle- burp her- and put her back to bed as comfortable as she can be- and then pass out yourself.  The superhero feeling that comes with it is the ability to do this all on a lack of sleep for the past four months. And to do it joyfully. Willingly. Lovingly. And with so much fullness.
Like I said there is part of me that waits for that cry to jump into action and feel important to this new little someone.

And last night as that little cry came, and the bottle was given, I fell into my routine.....but Reveille did not.


She was awake.

Not like awake to eat the bottle.
I mean awake.
We call her Michelle Phelps for the way she kicks her feet out of excitement.
And last night she was Michelle Phelping it up in the bassinet.
What was she excited about?
Only her and The Lord knows.
But she was awake.
Momma was tired.

I grabbed her out of the bassinet to rock her in my arms hoping that I could coax her back to sleep.  We are taught as American women that babies need schedules, schedules, schedules!  But when she is ready to rock and roll at 2 am, and rocking in my arms isn't letting her know that its time for sleep and not play makes me want to take the schedule idea and throw it out the window.

I look out the window, as I rock her back and forth and kissing her head.
Our yard is illuminated by the full moon.
I can see the white beehives glowing.
I see shadows moving across the lawn and imagine that it is Ash beebopping around.
I'm admiring the quiet beauty of this late summer night, and wishing for sleep at the same time, when I heard it.
Her laugh.

Rev does this new thing. She cracks up after eating.
All you have to do is hold her near your shoulder, and something causes her to laugh.

It was then, at 2 a.m. while trying to get a baby to sleep on a beautiful night that her laugh broke my spell.

She melted me.

I could have cared less what time it was.
My baby was happy.
She was enjoying herself.
She was full.
She felt loved.
She was awake.

*sigh


We ended up going downstairs where I put her in her swing with her pacifier.  It took all of ten minutes for her to fall asleep, but by then I was wide awake and played around on the internet while she happily snoozed.

I ended up staying awake till 5 a.m. but it didn't matter.  Those three hours of being awake in the middle of the night while our daughter let me know how happy she was was quite possibly the best three hours of my adult night life.  What does it matter if I sleep when I want to. I got a chance to peak into my daughters life and emotion, while the world was still. There was nothing else to do. No chores, no errands, no phone calls, no text, nothing else to do but to admire God's sweet little gift.

They say nothing good happens after 12 o clock.

But they must not have children.