a test of endurance

I  still nurse the kids to sleep but for my daugh­ter it is a 50/50 shot as to whether or not she will actu­ally go to sleep with­out fur­ther inter­ven­tion. This post is about what get­ting her to sleep looks like.

We lay in the dark and she flaps her arms and unlatches. She rolls over and rubs her eyes and starts to chat­ter. We came upstairs to bed because she looks exhausted but for some rea­son her body wants to stay awake. My son is asleep so I pick her up and take her downstairs.

We enter the dark­ened liv­ing room and she says “pick a boook and read?” as I start to pace across the rug. I set­tle into a com­fort­able stance and she puts her head down but it pops right back up. “A nurse?” and I sway as I pace the room. I am silent and con­fi­dent that I can help her go to sleep.

She puts her head back down and I feel her hand fid­get. She moves try­ing to find a com­fort­able spot to set­tle in.

Sway, sway, sway.

“A boook and read” is more of a state­ment that an request and she barely lifts her head. I feel her legs flex­ing and her hands open and close as her body fights off sleep. I’m tired myself, bed­time has been going on for over an hour, I just want her to go to sleep. I stay quiet but I start to dis­pare that she will never go to sleep.

Sway, sway, sway.

Her body sinks into me as she starts to drift off to sleep when sud­denly her body jolts as if giv­ing one last effort at keep­ing her awake. I feel a spark of hope.

Sway, sway, sway.

Sweat start to form on her head and her breath­ing slows and deep­ens. I stand on the rug sway­ing with her in my arms. I watch check the clock. I’ve been down­stairs with her for 35 min­utes. My feet are cold and my back aches but if I try to take her up to bed right now she may wake so I stand there for a few extra minutes.

As the min­utes tick past I find myself feel­ing frus­trated that this is turn­ing into our rou­tine. It’s only upon reflec­tion that I can see that this won’t last for long. That one day she will refuse my embrace.

After five min­utes pass I creep across the floor and start up the stairs. She barely stirs in my arms. I pad into the bed­room and crawl onto the mat­tress. My son is still asleep, he has barely moved. I gen­tly lower her body and she sighs as I pull my arms away.

My arms feel weight­less after hold­ing her for so long. She is grow­ing so fast, they both are. I watch them sleep for a brief moment before I slip out of the room. I feel happy that  I was able to help her get to sleep. We won.

Related posts:

1. this is how it starts
2. soap bub­bles
3. mov­ing day!