LuLu is conked out beside me this morning. She just finished Breakfast 1. Her hand rests protectively on my left breast. She is almost sleeping through the night. Dutch and I still get up once or twice to comfort her. It goes like this-- we are both soundly asleep, one or both hears a few pitiful cries. We lay in bed waiting for the other spouse to get up or for LuLu to fall back asleep (wishful thinking). One of us caves to reality and gets up. We stumble to her crib, pop her pacifier back in, tuck her covers around her face, and usually, she is back in Dreamland. Unless its 5AM, then its Breakfast 1 time. We pick her up and she is jubilant, thrilled, radiant. Her face cracks into a giant grin. She wiggles with delight. She makes happy sounds. I carry her straight to bed, her head held high. She gets down to business with gusto. Once sated, she slips back to sleep, just as a swimmer falls back into the water after taking a quick breather at the side of the pool.
I usually take this routine for granted. It was born as a compromise between the adult need for a few hours uninterrupted sleep and LuLu's baby needs for comfort and community. I soon discovered if I put off Breakfast 1, I wouldn't have enough time to get ready for work and it coincides perfectly with Dutch's morning schedule. So, in spite of his early morning, we all get to steal a little family time together.
My alarm just went off, so its time for me to sign off.