It’s not five thirty yet as I begin to write this.
We – Bill and I – got up at 4:30.
It is OPENING DAY OF TROUT SEASON IN RHODE ISLAND and so Bill and his best friend, John, are off to catch their limit. They left the house at five. As they were going out the door, I heard Julia on the monitor…"mommy….mommy…mommy."
And I was not the least bit surprised.
She was also up at twenty past twelve…eleven past two…sixteen past three…and again around four, I think, though sometimes I believe I sleepwalk through some of her waking times.
I don’t believe this is ever going to end.
But anyway. The
boys men left and I waited a few moments to see if Julia would just go back to sleep. She got quiet, so I poured some coffee and switched on my laptop. Within minutes, she was awake for real.
I got up, got her something to drink, and let her lie with me (and the imaginary Daddy that I pretended was there sleeping) a couple minutes. And all the while, I pretended that it was the middle of the night. Which, since it’s still dark out, wasn’t too difficult.
I put her back in her crib, covered her up with her three blankets (the blue care bear one from Auntie Diane…the yellow one…and the nice, soft, purple one), gave her a kiss, switched on her music box thing, and tiptoed out of the room.
"Be careful going in your bed, Mommy!" she stage-whispered to me as I shut the door.
"I will!" I stage-whispered back. And crept down the stairs, staying to the edges, where there is less creaking. The sound of her music box would cover up any of the minimal, unavoidable creaking that happens no matter where you step.
And I got my coffee. Got my laptop. And now am sitting here in the darkness, in the living room, on the loveseat by the front window. And I hear her even breathing on the monitor, so I am hopeful that I will have a few more minutes after I finish this post.
Right after the music ended, I heard her whisper to Alex…"Alex!" "What." (I am amazed he even woke up for that – he sleeps through just about everything except her angry screaming.) "Be careful on your bed, okay?"
The sky is getting lighter. Earlier, before John arrived, I moved my car out into the street so it would be out of the way of the truck when the guys left later. Bill would have moved it for me, but I wanted to go out. I love that early morning quiet.
I went out barefoot – it’s quieter than wearing boots – like that even matters – and the paved driveway felt cold but not unbearable. The sky was cloudless and filled with stars. I could see Ursa Major and Ursa Minor just above our neighbor’s house.
DAMN THE GUY DOWN THE STREET AND HIS CAR ALARM!!!!!!!!!! (that wasn’t while I was outside, that is NOW, and now Julia is awake and sounding eager to begin her day. DRAT!!!)
Anyway – cloudless, stars, peaceful, blah blah blah. Well, it was really nice. A lone cardinal calling out to anyone who might be listening….
Well. I’m two for two this morning. Julia had to go potty. I went into her dark room, picked her up out of the crib and heard a crinkly papery sound. And as she said "that’s my pull-up" I realized she was, indeed, completely undressed.
"I don’t want my pull-up," she told me in the bathroom. "Just my elephant and my bum."
"Just go potty." I said.
Her elephant is a floppy, pink creature that she will no doubt need in college in order to get to sleep. It is her Linus blanket. Her Maggie binky. Her…well, her elephant.
Her bum needs no explanation.
And amazingly, when she was finished, she went back to her crib without a fuss. The music box is still running, so who knows what will happen when it finishes. But for now, I have typing time.
It’s getting lighter outside, of course.
It’s almost six. Look out, trout. Their tranquility will be ending shortly.
As will mine.