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.
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| The boys, circa 2004 |
I got a good giggle out of this. I was never able to nurse my kids, so it was a bottle. My daughter would eat until she threw up if you moved her. I had completely forgotten about that until now ... aaahhh memories! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful little glutton. Such a beautiful story. I'm a peeping tom looking in your window, seeing you in a rocker with him, then I am you, looking down at him with such love. I see him popping away in distraction too. very visual and vivid.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful story! I wish my second would gave nursed to have the distraction of my oldest! He spent to much time in the NICU! I couldn't think of a more perfect way you would have wanted to spent every midnight together! Almost like you welcomed a new day each night!
ReplyDeleteSweet sweet story! I remember those nursing days. So wishing my baby would just go back to sleep so I could, while at the same time realizing (through my sleepy fog ) how fast they grow. Especially love the part of you singing the songs your father sang to you.
ReplyDeleteLisa
http://www.neebeep.com/itsownsweetwillneebeepc/
i miss this. i have 4 kids and my youngest is a preschooler now. my favorite look on a baby is that "milk drunk" lolling around expression :)
ReplyDeleteWhat a sweet, heart-full take on the prompt! And so very true; we used to call our kids milk drunk! :)
ReplyDeleteI loved the way that you described your milk scented bathrobe. It was poetic and wistful, perfect.
Also? I adore the picture! :)
Those days feel so far away yet it wasn't that long ago that I stopped breastfeeding. Thank you for bringing the memory back so vividly!
ReplyDeleteOh, I get so sentimental too, thinking about my kids' nursing days. Hard to believe my youngest will be 10 in 2 weeks!!
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