Midnight Conversations

Today, I am thankful for Midnight. I'm thankful because, although I really would rather be asleep, Midnight means Playtime. And Playtime means Conversations.

"Are you hungry?"

"Meh. I could eat."

He futzes around, nibbling, drinking little bits here and there.

"That's hardly the same thing, son."

"You're right. I don't really want to eat right now."

I sit him up and he looks around, amazed by all he sees.

"Mama, do you see that bright light on the ceiling?!"

"Yes, son."

"It is so pretty! When did it get there?"

"It's been there all along. You stare at it every night. Don't you remember?"

"I dunno, Mama. This light is really special. I don't think it's the same as the one I saw before."

He begins to move his head, determined to explore the other wonders of the living room. He's still very wobbly, but every day has better control over his muscles. From the safety of my lap, he catalogs the various sights. 

"There's my swing, Mama. I like my swing. I like to be in it when it's light outside and I can watch the windows. That's nice. But sometimes, Mama, I can't stay awake. But I think that's ok because I sleep really well in my swing. I like the sounds it makes."

"Sometimes, Sweet Boy, I wish I had a swing too. I'll bet it really is very soothing."

"I like the TV, too, Mama. It has really pretty pictures on it."

"Don't get too attached, kid. TV is going to be a special treat when you get older. You won't watch nearly as much as you do now."

"Ok, Mama. Have you seen my hands?! Now, those are NEAT! Look. I can move this one. Wait! Where did it go? Oh, there it is. One day, Mama, I'm going to figure out how to work these hands, and then, I'll do amazing things with them!"

"Oh you will, will you? Like what?"

"I'm not sure, but I think that if I work really hard at it, I might be able to get my thumb to stay in my mouth so I can suck on it."

"That would be quite the accomplishment, wouldn't it?"

"I know! I'll ask Daddy. He can teach me how to use my hands, right?"

"That's right!"
"I thought so. Daddy can do anything. He can hold me with just one hand, and he makes silly faces and noises for me, and when he stands up I am really close to the lights, and when he holds me and talks, it's all rumbly and low and makes my body vibrate. And, did you know, Mama, I get to help him with his homework?"

"You do? How?"

"Well...I want to help, but I don't really understand what he's doing, so I just sit with him while he works on it, but that's still helping, right, Mama?"

"You bet it is."

"Yeah, I thought so. I want to stand up now, ok, Mama?"

"Ok, baby."

I stand him up on my lap. He's very noodley and limp and then, all of a sudden, he tightens up his leg muscles, pushing down into my lap and surges upward.  He's standing! His arms go stiff, too, and kind of flail around, as if for balance. He holds his head up straight and eyes, slightly crossed, open big and wide, and his mouth forms a big O that curls up in a smile at the corners. He looks so proud of himself, and I don't have the heart to tell him that my hands are still supporting him (I suspect this will always be the case - him striking out on his own, me quietly supporting - I think that's how the relationship is supposed to work).

"Look, Mama!"

"I see, baby! You're doing a great job! What a strong boy you are!"

"I know. I think probably nobody else has ever figured out how to do this before!"

He slumps down, winded. It's hard work, doing things nobody else has ever done before. And in an instant, he's back up again. Up and down, up and down he goes, taking in new sights each time he stands. He chatters on and I just listen.

"That's where the dogs go during the day, right Mama?"

"That's the kitchen. What's food taste like?"

"Daddy and I do Daddy's homework there. There's a really nice light right over the table."

But, eventually, he tires out and sits back down. His adventures for the night are over. He becomes reflective.

"I can't wait for Asa to be born, can you, Mama? How long til he gets here. I have a lot to tell him."
"He'll be here any day now."
"Oh. That's good."


He gets quiet and the stillness stretches out, covering us like a warm blanket. We just sit there, enjoying the quiet together.


Suddenly, he stirs, and I know our time together is coming to an end.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, Mama."

So, we settle in to nurse. His hand moves slowly through the air, as if under water, and his eyes take in as much as he can still see. At first, he looks at me a lot, but slowly, his gaze turns inward. His tummy is getting full and his muscles are pleasantly warm from all his activity. His hand movements get slower and his eyes get heavy. He blinks. And again. And eventually, his eyes just stay closed. His arm falls back behind him, suspended in the air, hand curled up in a fist. His sucking slows, now just intermittent nibbling. And just before he unlatches and falls fast asleep, he smiles.