It’s the middle of the night and my 18-month-old, Jacob, is awake. He is stirring and kicking and maybe even crying. If I don’t hear him right away and I’m not already in bed with him he might even pad down the hall, a bleary-eyed little man in a footie sleeper on a search for Mama.
He finds me, or I find him. Then I am there, and he is there, and in my lowest voice I say, “Shhh, shhh, you don’t have to wake up, it’s time for sleeping.” And I lay my hand on him, and he quiets. He stills. He exhales. He reaches for me and I nurse him and he falls back to sleep quickly. I follow him, my hand still on his back, and together we drift off and share our dreams.
There are other nights, too, when my 5-year-old Hannah wakes up from a nightmare. Her waking is far more rare, but much more dramatic. It has always been this way, my girl has slept well at night but has always woken crying if it’s still dark outside. On those nights, my husband often goes to her while I pull the night shift with her little brother. But not always. Sometimes I find my way to her in the night, and I lay my hand on her and she clings to me and the tension melts out of her. Mama is here, she is safe, and she can go back to sleep again.
Of course it isn’t always so idyllic or easy. I have had the nights where nothing I can do will calm the children, when teeth or stuffed noses or the phase of the moon force the whole house awake for an hour at 3:14am. I have had night terrors and bed-wettings and late night diaper disasters from newborns. I have struggled with the different personalities and needs of two children at night, and fought to balance them with my own.
But most of the time, still, I am like a talisman in the night. I am Safety and Comfort, and my mere presence means that everything is OK. It baffles me and inspires me, the way that I am not just a 30-something suburbanite who can’t figure out what she wants to do with herself. I am not just Amber, math whiz and all-around crunchy sort with a tendency to talk too much and rush to judgment. I am also Mother, the source of all things, the symbol of nurturing and abundance.
It will not always be so. My feet of clay will be all too visible to my children one day. I will be the one who mixed everything up or said the wrong thing or left them waiting for 27 minutes after band practice. But for right now my children are still small, and I am still the world to them. So I am mostly willing as I drag myself from my bed and bestow calm, with the touch of my hand.
Just a quick reminder about my Crafting my Life link-up, which is happening on February 25th. February’s Crafting my Life series is about time management. Exciting? Debatable. Important? Absolutely. To participate, write a post on this month’s theme and add yourself to the list that will appear with my regular post at 6am on the last Thursday of the month. Then go off and read everyone else’s ideas and thoughts and be inspired! Check out January’s link up to get a feel for how it works.
I love this, and I love you. You make the hard parts of motherhood sound so beautiful, and so important… which is something I struggle to see. Please keep writing!
My dear young mother friend…you will always be the Mother, no matter their or your age. And there will always be a part of their hearts where only you reside. Always and forever.Thank you for a lovely post.
My husband was always the night person when the girls were babies. He was the one they called for in the night while I soundly slept. Now though, when they come into our room, it is to my side of the bed they crawl into. I have gotten very good at sleeping in the middle or midst, depending on the number of us in our bed (3-5, 5 if the cat joins in the fun).
Emma has had night terrors sinc she was about 2 and those are the worst. Takes about an hour to get her back to a calm state and willing to close her eyes long enogh to actually fall back into a restful sleep.
.-= Heather´s last post ..Green Eye Gone Pink =-.
My husband did a lot of night duty when the kids were babies too, since he was the one that could get up and then fall right back to sleep — it didn’t always work, because if I woke up I felt too guilty and couldn’t stay asleep anyway. Now it’s mostly me and the Magic Mommy Hand. And you’re right — it’s amazing. Sometimes I’m actually happy to be woken up. Sometimes.
.-= allison´s last post ..***************Head in the Clouds =-.
What a beautiful post1 so bitter sweet isn’t it? I love that a simple hush and reassurance from mummy usually calms them back down and hate the fact that one day it wont be enough.
.-= Heather´s last post ..What Do You think Of Vlogging? =-.
i’m enjoying the infallibility bit while it lasts ….. and it’s disappearing quickly. I though maybe I could hang on until he was a teenager but no, even this Grade 1 kid thinks his mum is “the worst in the world ever” (but luckily not all the time).
.-= pomomama aka ebbandflo´s last post ..sunday specials =-.
Such a beautiful post! I couldn’t agree more. Wonderful to still be considered the center of your little people’s world.
I do wonder if I will ever get a full night’s sleep again, though.
.-= Mayhem and Moxie´s last post ..I’d Like To Teach the World to Sing =-.
Steeped in it myself. Right now that I am back at work, I’ll admit those stolen moments nursing my 1 year old at night are somewhat blissful. Time for just the two of us. I’m amazed by the comfort it brings both of us. I’ll admit though, 7 or 8 hours straight now and again would be welcome too.
.-= Christine LaRocque´s last post ..And then he was 1 =-.
what a TIMELY post!
My youngest had one heck of a needy night. He went to sleep with a fever (so I gave him kids Motrin) then at 10:30 he started coughing and crying because his neck hurt. Poor guy. The fever seemed better so I tucked him back into his bed with some water to sip. Then at 4:00am he was crying for me again. So softly I barely heard him. His throat was sore, the cough was raspy and the fever was back worse than ever. I sponged the poor hot boy down, more Motrin and a call to the Nurse’s hotline. She asked some questions and listened to his relentless cough and suggested we go see a doctor right away….. so my husband took him to the hospital (no one else is open at 4:30am!) They were back by 6am. It seems the Motrin was working great by the time he got to the ER, and he “just” has a respiratory virus.
Long story short… between nightmares and the endless strings of bugs that kids get, there is no such thing as a solid sleep since babies came to my life. I don’t begrudge them the moments they need me, but I am sometimes have a hard time being sympathetic to a toddler screaming about the boogieman at 2am.. I swallow my frustration and try various calming techniques, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if “sleeping like a baby” meant a long, restful, uninterrupted sleep?!
Lovely.
I don’t think I have your power, as much as I would like to. The girl was up for three hours last night, despite me taking her to bed with me. Can you bottle some of that touch of yours. I’d buy it!
.-= Capital Mom´s last post ..Some =-.
I love your perspective on a parent’s night duties. Sometimes it helps (me) to take a step back and remember that my children want me or their father in the middle of the night not because they want to melt our brains to mush(ha!) but because we are their world, their feet of clay as you so beautifully phrased it.
Now if only I could keep this post by my bedside so that I can read it before I go in for my next 4 a.m. wake-up call.
.-= Kristen´s last post ..My Very Own VBAC Whopper(s) =-.
Wow, this post inspires me to feel sleepy, lol. The past week has been an almost sleepless one with my husband and I taking turns getting our zzzs. Your words, though, give me some perspective and inspiration on the fact that we both comfort our babes and more than that, that we are magically able to do so at this time in their lives.
Thank you Amber,
I love this post…even though your middle of the night story sounds completely different from mine! I am not the sleep whisperer but luckily my children usually just want to have a quick cuddle and then be left alone.
This was such a lovely post about the magic touch of a mom.
.-= Marilyn @ A Lot of Loves´s last post ..Second Fiddle =-.
A beautiful reminder to all of us who are the suns to our little planets (at least for now). It really is a powerful position to be in, glorious in its complexities and how it’s separate from us, but also in us. Just a wonderful read. Thanks.
.-= Jessica – This is Worthwhile´s last post ..Sucking it – the fuck – up: Moms are warriors =-.
I got a little misty at that post, especially the last bit. It’s a bit sad, isn’t it? We must enjoy these times while they last.
Beautiful post, Amber, and a great reminder to enjoy our little ones now — in the midst of the craziness — and not just later on, when they hate us.
Beautifully said.
what a lovely post. i slept with the jellybean last night. i wish that it was as peaceful, instead it was a lot fo tossing and turning. but when we nap together on the weekends, it’s pure bliss.
.-= smothermother´s last post ..All in a day =-.
My husband was the night soother for my older son, and I am the one for my younger son. Nothing quite as cute as the little ones in footie sleepers, which helps a lot if you’re up in the middle of the night.
.-= Lady M´s last post ..The Magic Kingdom, Take One =-.
oh yes, i’m soaking this up too.
and in other ways also. Z got upset when a little girl at the playground was screaming/crying. he ran to me for a sweet, long hug…and then everything was fine. being his “rock” makes me feel stronger than i think i am.
I read this the other day, but I couldn’t upload your site to leave a comment. It’s a beautiful sweet post, and the title is superb. It doesn’t need any commenting, except that … the touch of your hand will always be just so. Even when your kids will be adults.
.-= Francesca´s last post ..In & out of these doors =-.
Had one of those nights last night. Babysitter and plans lined up on a Saturday night. A sick little one turned our evening into a barfy at-home affair. But knowing only I could rub her back the right way and give her the perfect dose of ginger ale made it all worth while. I heed my calling.
.-= Nicole Feliciano´s last post ..Muslin Swaddle Blankets for Happy Babies =-.