The Lonely Night Time

My oldest child, my Miss M, has never enjoyed sleeping in her own room, in her own bed. She is not at the stage yet that she enjoys a good stretch, arms and legs spread wide engulfing as much space as a body can. I don't know if she is scared of the dark, as I was as a child, or if she gets lonely in her room by herself. It does seem somewhat unnatural to separate the child from the mother who carried her or him for 10 months on the inside and often 12 months on the outside.

M was, as D is, what I like to call a barnacle baby. Moments that I was and am allowed to put the baby down are rare. Often snacks are involved to placate the baby while I do things that require 2 hands.

Once M could walk, however, (which was just days after her first birthday) she often pushed me out of the room. The teachers of her ECFE classes commented that her willingness to let me go, even her insistence that I go for a short while, indicated that she was very securely attached to me. She knew I'd be back, and she was going to have fun while I was gone.

I've often thought that nighttime is the time that M uses to regress. She loves to be called Baby Doll, she longs for the cuddles of reading. She loves to have her back rubbed and her hair brushed back. Night time is the time that she gets to be a little girl, free of the responsibilities of being a big girl. She can, once again, be the child that she is without worrying about her siblings.

She almost never falls asleep in her own bed. Even rarer? For her to stay there. She will slink into her father's and my bed sometimes stealthily, sometimes without guile, but I see the relief in her face as she settles in to slumber on the nights when her daddy is gone (which is rare).

When I asked M if she'd like to share a room with D when our home addition and remodel is done, she did not hesitate a moment before saying yes. And for a few years (until M is a teen) I'm sure M will sleep better, and in her own bed, as long as her little sister is in the room with her.

Sisters

I did not have a sister. I wanted one and badly. I'm sure my parents tired of my requests for a younger sibling. That's not to say that I didn't have fun playing with my brother. I did. We played cars and stuffed animals and guns and on and on. But I still wished for a sister.

When we told M and K (sort of) that we would be welcoming another child into our family, the kids both were in agreement that the child would be a girl. I don't know how they did it, but they were right. The doctor told us that kids are often right. I'm assuming that means the older kids because Miss M predicted K would also be a sister if I remember correctly.

My mom has two sisters and I think that fact had something to do with my envy of having sisters. Also, my friends who had sisters, much as they would complain, I thought it seemed pretty great to have a ready girl friend.

So now Miss M and Ms. D have each other.

All's well until someone pulls on someone else's nose.

Ah. It's still all well.

Living vicariously through my children once again.