Monday, July 16, 2012

i wanna hold your hand




she's gone past the need for a back pat or a sweet lullaby.
last night the little one devised a new strategy for keeping mama close at bedtime.

once she was lying safe and sound in her cot I began my usual back tap
but then
a little nubbin hand grabbed those tapping fingers and lay them down next to her head.
She placed her sweet little hand on top of mine and began to squeeze my back hand skin.
trapped.
what. a. genius.

It seems that the little one has realised how easy it is for her mama to slip away quietly after a minute or so of back tapping and how flaming hard it is to slip out from under that vice like squeeze of the tiny fingernails.

I wait for her breathing to slow.
I wait for her squeezing to cease.

I'm sure it's been hours. I start dreaming of the things I could be doing.
Surely there is some trashy show to watch.
I could be having a bubble bath.
The lounge is calling. It wants me to face plant into its comfy depths.

But no. My hand is being experimented on for flexibility and elasticity.
I decide to slip it away and see what happens and quick as a flash an almighty howl erupts from within the cot.
Back it goes. Reluctantly.

I crawl into the fetal position on the floor my arm outstretched through the bars.
I decide to think about amusing topics. Matchmaking my friends, planing date nights.
The hours pass. It must be 3am by now.

I decide to risk it. I pull my hand to freedom and hear that yowl. Less energetic this time.
I shhhhhhh. and shhhh. and shhhhhhhhhh.
The yowl turns to a whimper.
I shhhhh.
It stops.
I creep and crawl away.
Goodnight my little girl. I love you.

I check the clock. It's 8pm.
Not great.
Not bad.

Now where is that lounge?



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