Friday, May 13, 2011

RDC: My Midnight Glutton

 
This week’s Red Dress Club prompt is to write about gluttony—my personal favorite of the seven deadly sins. I love food and drink and had dozens of ideas of how to take this prompt. This is the one that flowed the easiest. I think I've been getting sentimental lately...

My Midnight Glutton

            I awaken at 11:58—just before you begin to cry. It’s become so routine over the past few weeks, I’d probably get up to check your breathing if you didn’t call for me before midnight. I slip into my light blue milk-scented bathrobe and stumble down the hall to the nursery.
            Your cries become louder just as I reach the crib. You feel my arms around you and crane your head forward in search of your next meal. We sit in the old maple rocking chair and nurse. This midnight feeding has become your biggest meal of the day. No longer a newborn, you’re becoming interested in the world around you. The excitement of your big brother during daylight hours fascinates you and you’ll latch on for only a moment or two and then turn away to see what he’s doing.
            I can’t blame you. Owen is two years old and he makes lots of noise and plays with colorful toys. How can a person focus on milk when there is so much excitement going on? Don’t worry Sweet Baby James. It wasn’t that long ago that your big brother was waking me for a midnight snack. Now he can run and climb rocks and kick a soccer ball and finger paint, and blow bubbles. And it won’t be long before you will too.     
As we sit together in the dark room I marvel at how different you are from Owen as a baby. Nothing could distract him until he rolled away in sleepy contentment with milk running down his round chin. I wonder if that is a clue as to how your personalities will be like later on.
            You finish nursing and the look on your face tells me you don’t want to sleep. Sorry pal, Mommy can’t play peek-a-boo at midnight. I put you up to my shoulder and softly sing the Tommy Makem songs I can remember my dad singing to me. Half way through “The Leaving of Liverpool” you surrender to sleep. I lay you down with a silent plea that you’ll let me sleep for a few more hours. 

The boys, circa 2004