Sunday

Little O was, in general, a fussy pain this afternoon.  He went to sleep quickly after church for Nap #2, but he woke up startled and inconsolable. It is very rare that once he is held he continues to cry, but this afternoon he continued to wail. The Parakeet bounced him for a bit and handed him to the Huz so she could take some chicken out of the oven.  Well, he liked that even less.  Wailing became screaming.  Beautiful white chubby cheeks became bright red tomato face.  It seemed it was time to bring out the boob.
Of course, two friends were on their way over and the door buzzer rang as the Huz was walking to the kitchen to finish assembling their lunch.  Ahhh – welcome to the chaos! Everyone was casual and accomodating. The Parakeet nursed the baby.  The Huz made lunch.  Everyone ate with bowls in their laps and the baby calmed down.  Phew.
Two hours later, he got scared and threw another fit.  It seemed this may be one of those days – he also may be teething.  He lets out gushes of drool and never stopped gnawing on someone’s finger all day. Time will tell..
Regardless, a trying afternoon for all present.  The friends went home. The baby took a third brief nap.  The Huz cleaned the kitchen and looked just totally fried. The Parakeet told him to take a break – she could handle O.  He went to the neighbors to watch the Bears, and the house, for the first time all day, stood still. 
Little O clung to the Parakeet in his footed Circus print pajamas. He flung both arms around her and nuzzled his chin on her neck.  He moaned in a truly pitiful way.  She decided to nurse him to sleep.  She took him to the couch, arranged the pillow, nuzzled him in her elbow and picked up a book.  He quickly latched on and slowed his breathing.  Soon his eyelids drifted shut.  He kept his free hand against her chest, occasionally petting her skin.  She read, in the silence, and just felt his mouth on her body.  She let him there for a long time, feeling his rhythm slow down, and after nearly fifty minutes, he fell asleep. 
She closed her book and just looked at him. Just held him. Just let him sleep.  His skin looked porcelain and she could see movement behind his eyelids.  She felt calm. A wonderful calm – that would ideally fill every sleety Sunday evening.  She felt desperate. A bittersweet Desperation- to take in every detail of his little sleeping body because the moment was fading.  She doesn’t know how long she stared, but it seemed to comfort them both.
She held him close, stood, and carried him to his crib where he stayed sleeping while she covered him with a blanket, then tiptoed out. 
While she thought her heart might break from being too full of love for the little one, she also whispered a prayer that she wouldn’t see him again until morning.

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4 responses to “Sunday

  1. That totally made me cry. What a beautiful mother you make…

  2. That was so sweet…I, too, cried.

    I have this friend, Angie, who has this unfounded, based solely on her experience, theory that babies who get teeth early are meat eaters, and if O is getting teeth this early, he would be a meat eater, and if he is a meat eater, he will be strong, and if he is strong…well, let’s just say you better not buy the $10 Wal Mart baby gate I bought.

  3. well, we had another “HELLo operator” day here with the fussiness, so let’s hope it’s a tooth. otherwise….who knows what we’re dealing with?

  4. oh sara. sigh my dear. 🙂 you are doing wonderfully.

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