The Countless Counting
"It's OK sweetie, Mummy's here" I whisper into the darkness. That "Oh Shit" moment has happened.
I gently lift her and lay her back down, cover her with the blankets, rub her back until she is still.
And then I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 30 seconds.
I start to stroke her head. Feel her soft, feathery hair under my fingers, running them from her forehead, past her ear and to her neck.
And I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 60 seconds.
I feel her breathing slow, feel the tension flow from her body.
I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 90 seconds.
I stop stroking her head and lift my hand. I hold my breath and wait to see movement.
I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 20 seconds.
She seems to be sleeping again. She seems calm and content. I take a step towards the door and I wait.
I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 10 seconds.
Squinting into the darkness, trying to sense her movement. If I'm lucky she won't make a peep. She'll be sleeping soundly.
If I'm not lucky, she stirs, maybe grizzles, seeks reassurance that her Mummy is still there. When she does this I feel a rush of love, tinged with sleepiness, a slight yearning for the bed that awaits me.
But I know in this moment she needs me, needs to know that the one who loves her most is there, there in the darkness with her, only a step and a heartbeat away.
And then I count. To the ticks of the clock. For as long as it takes.
The Countless Counting.
Sometimes it takes many ticks of the clock. Other times, just a few ticks.
But it always leads to the Moon Walking...
I gently lift her and lay her back down, cover her with the blankets, rub her back until she is still.
And then I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 30 seconds.
I start to stroke her head. Feel her soft, feathery hair under my fingers, running them from her forehead, past her ear and to her neck.
And I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 60 seconds.
I feel her breathing slow, feel the tension flow from her body.
I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 90 seconds.
I stop stroking her head and lift my hand. I hold my breath and wait to see movement.
I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 20 seconds.
She seems to be sleeping again. She seems calm and content. I take a step towards the door and I wait.
I count. To the ticks of the clock. I count for 10 seconds.
Squinting into the darkness, trying to sense her movement. If I'm lucky she won't make a peep. She'll be sleeping soundly.
If I'm not lucky, she stirs, maybe grizzles, seeks reassurance that her Mummy is still there. When she does this I feel a rush of love, tinged with sleepiness, a slight yearning for the bed that awaits me.
But I know in this moment she needs me, needs to know that the one who loves her most is there, there in the darkness with her, only a step and a heartbeat away.
And then I count. To the ticks of the clock. For as long as it takes.
The Countless Counting.
Sometimes it takes many ticks of the clock. Other times, just a few ticks.
But it always leads to the Moon Walking...
Comments
Happy Sleep Time
Mumabulous
One of the twins has a habit of saying "Mama, sit there..." whenever he wakes up now. He doesn't need me to pat him or soothe him. Just for me to "Sit there..."
Prue x
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