One on One
The time is 8:32 p.m. I notice the time because TheMonk begins to cry in his crib. It’s been a rough past couple of days for TheMonk. He’s fighting yet another cold and it has drained him.
I go up to check on him and give him a drink of water. He is fussy, however, and instead of lying back down as usual, he cries out louder and yells out that he wants to go “downstairs.”
I remind him that it’s night time (he’s been in bed for an hour and a half) and that it’s time to go to sleep.
“NO! DON’T WANNA GO TO SLEEP!” he screams. “WANNA GO DOWNSTAIRS.”
I am firm. I gently rub his back and exit the room. He continues to cry.
I listen for it to die down. After about 10 minutes it appears he’s going to finally calm down. Instead, he finds a second wind and screams yet again.
Feeling like I should go in, I enter and again rub his back. He is hysterical now and sobbing heavily. I pick him up and he wraps his arms tightly around my neck. His legs wrap around my torso and he squeezes me harder than he has ever hugged me in his life. I squeeze back and kiss his wet cheek softly.
“It’s time to go to sleep, my little man.” I tell him. “I love you but it’s time to sleep.”
He protests as I lay him down and once again, as I close the door behind me, he begins to scream. Once again I let him cry. Andrea is out for the evening and I don’t have her to consult with. My mind goes over all the parenting books I have read and I decide to let him cry a little longer. I don’t want to reinforce this behavior and have him crying for the next week.
But after another 10 to 15 minutes of screaming I can’t take it anymore. I rationalize that if I don’t actually take him downstairs, that would be okay. I creep into his room and scoop him up while Swee’Pea tries to sleep in the next crib.
I carry TheMonk out to our loft area and position myself on the chaise section of our sofa. I hold him in my lap and and we snuggle on the chaise, letting the sounds of the fish tank fill the room. TheMonk has stopped crying and he places his little hand on my hand and rests his weary head against my chest.
I kiss his damp forehead and hold him tighter. My mind wanders back two years to a time when we would often have early morning snuggles after a feeding. I think back to the times when I would hold my baby boy in my arms in this very spot and how I never thought I’d get to feel that again. Now that I have wiggly two-year-olds, snuggling is few and far between.
…
It turns out, my little boy, that you didn’t want to go downstairs. No, it turns out you wanted to spend some time with your Daddy. We lay there while you asked me questions in an effort to prolong the moment. “Where’s my car at?” you ask. “Where’s my mask at?” you ask. “Is Swee’Pea sleeping?” you wonder.
I answer your questions and hold you there in the still of the night. I place my hand on top of the one that is resting on my arm and I gently play with your little fingers. You look up at me and smile. I give you a kiss on your warm cheek and pull you close one more time. As if you recognize the time, you ask me… “I go to sleep now?”
“Okay, Monk.” I say. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
You turn over and I pick you up as you squeeze my neck again and rest your head on my shoulder. I rest my cheek against yours as I carry you to your room. I give you one last kiss and place you gently in your crib – cherishing each moment – holding on to this memory of love and warmth that I so want to be a part of your life forever.
I place your stuffed monkey under your arm and I quietly tip-toe out of the room. I can hear you getting comfy and settling in to finally sleep.
You didn’t want to go downstairs. You wanted to be with your Daddy.
Your Daddy wanted to be with you too.
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Amen, brother.
Comment by Whit — October 20, 2007 @ 12:38 am
Lordy, warn me next time. I’m practically a sobbing mess and I’m at work hoping no customers come to my desk in the next few minutes while I compose myself.
All that aside though, absolutely one of the most beautiful posts I have ever read and I understand it so well. There is nothing quite like knowing your little squirmy toddler didn’t actually want whatever it was they claimed, what they really wanted was you, just you. Your warmth, your smell, your presence. And that need is just as strong in us, only we have to wait for the moment, we can’t force them to let us breathe them in, we can’t convince them they need to sit with us, just for a moment more…
Beautiful. And thank you for sharing it with us.
Comment by Val — October 20, 2007 @ 6:32 am
I know the feeling very well. Sometimes when I get home late from work and my son is in the bed and he hears me come in. He tries to start a conversation from the bedroom. I tell him I’ll see him in the morning, but he keeps talking. He’s tired but he wants to chat a little bit with me before he goes to bed. He wants to tell me about his day. Against his mother’s wishes I go to him and sit on his bed to catch up. I just can’t say no.
Comment by Keith — October 20, 2007 @ 7:36 am
That’s great. Does it work every time? Just kidding. Who cares if it does? What a great moment.
Comment by DadStuff — October 20, 2007 @ 10:11 pm
Tad has been battling a bad cold this week and has done this same thing, too. Only Mommy (or Daddy) will do, especially since he can just hop out of bed now. I stay with him for a while, but as soon as I leave the room, he tries to get up and follow me, and I have to order him back to bed… and it just kills me. I just wish he could talk to me about it, instead of just hoping that I’ll figure it out.
Comment by Deanna — October 21, 2007 @ 12:19 am
The CDC says the overdosing of your infants, toddlers or children of any age with TLC can be the most effective medicine and causes no serious side effects.
Comment by Grandmother — October 21, 2007 @ 6:12 pm
Mental note: always wear waterproof mascara when reading Matthew’s blog.
Comment by samantha jo campen — October 22, 2007 @ 9:48 am
Nothing sweeter in life than feeling that close to your loved ones. Breathing in your baby’s scent and feeling their little arms holding you close…that is serenity.
Comment by Momma Em — October 22, 2007 @ 12:38 pm
Hopefully you aren’t in the areas that are being evacuated and affected by the fires, but I wanted to let you know that your family is in my thoughts. My family in san marcos was evacuated very early this morning. I’ve been a silent reader of your blog over 2 years ago just before I, myself moved to San Diego to look after my now 3 yr old cousin. I’m now home in Canada, and am still enjoying your insights on parenting. Again you and your family are in my thoughts, and I am anxious, as I’m sure other readers that know about the San Diego fires, to know that you and your family are OK. Please post asap!
Comment by Shannon — October 22, 2007 @ 3:44 pm
[...] TheMonk had other ideas. He wanted to go downstairs. (sound familiar?) The only difference between this time and last time was this time it was 2:15 in the freakin’ morning! Daddy was not in such a mood for cuddle time. Not that I didn’t try. I did try. Only I was hoping to sleep while we got some cuddle time. But TheMonk was adamant. He wanted to go downstairs. [...]
Pingback by Childs Play x2 — Because having one just wasn’t enough. » Ohhhh, THIS is what they meant by “terrible” twos — October 25, 2007 @ 10:42 pm
[...] TheMonk had other ideas. He wanted to go downstairs. (sound familiar?) The only difference between this time and last time was this time it was 2:15 in the freakin’ morning! Daddy was not in such a mood for cuddle time. Not that I didn’t try. I did try. Only I was hoping to sleep while we got some cuddle time. But TheMonk was adamant. He wanted to go downstairs. [...]
Pingback by Childs Play x2 — Because having one just wasn’t enough. » Ohhhh, THIS is what they meant by “terrible” twos — October 25, 2007 @ 10:42 pm