Dear Baby

The family bed.

When Everly was very young and sleeping with us every night, I didn’t enjoy bedtime much. While I loved watching her sleep, I missed curling up next to my husband and putting my cold feet on his warm legs. I missed that ‘us’ time that had been our ritual for years before her arrival. I joked with him that I felt like a 1950’s sitcom couple- except instead of twin beds we just had a sleeping baby barrier between us.

Eventually, Everly transitioned from our bed to her pram and then finally to the crib in her room. I was glad to get my old ritual back with Brent at bedtime but I missed that sleeping girl I’d grown accustomed to. 

Now, every morning around 4:30am, Evie wakes up and Brent brings her into our room. She spends the last three or four hours sleeping between us - most often completely horizontal so that her feet are in my face and her head is in the side of Brent’s ribcage. I don’t sleep as soundly as I do when it’s just the two of us, but I love having her there. It’s what works for us - falling asleep as a couple and waking up as parents - the best of both worlds when it comes to crib sleeping and co-sleeping.

Lately, Everly has been waking us up with funniest baby chatter - she’ll give us an entire speech, complete with facial expressions and hand motions with a flood of syllables and squeals. She is either telling us about a crazy dream she had or trying to convince us to go all-in on some grand scheme. Even though I don’t have a clue what she’s saying, she’s very convincing.

She’s also taken to silently and stealthily waking me by shoving her tiny, chubby pointer finger directly up my left nostril. Or by attempting to french kiss my eye socket. Or wrapping a good chunk of my hair doubly around her hand and then giving a hard yank.  It’s a startling way to wake up - but the minute my eyes open she greets me with the most ridiculously wide mouth smile.  It’s such a familiar smile (an tiny replica of Brent’s) that I can’t be annoyed and usually find myself pulling her close to snuggle.

I wish I knew her thought process as she decides on her wake-up method of choice each morning. I seriously don’t even know why I set an alarm clock anymore when I’ve got an extremely effective, albeit sometimes painful (and painfully cute) alternative.

Makes for a good morning, indeed.

Love,

M