Sleep is overrated. Or so you’d think in my family. Small, tired eyes fight to stay open, Watching, waiting for me.
They know that I’ll get up to things, While they rest their little heads. Relax, make tea, heavens read a book, Shower & change, while they sleep in their beds.
So we go about our bed routine, Everyone doing just fine to begin. Teeth and a book for the toddler, While the baby feeds with a grin.
And as the book comes to an end, Pleading begins for ‘just one more’, The baby’s yet to settle so - This mama gives in with a yawn.
Another book chosen and read, With all the characters voiced out. The baby full, content, nuzzled in. The toddler threatening to wake him with a shout.
Then off to bed we finally trudge, To try and get some sleep. But not before the toddler asks, For 100 renditions of ba ba purple sheep.
And I oblige this one night, Singing every coloured sheep there is. Till he nestles down in his pillow, And grabs my hand to put in his.
As his breathing steadies out, His eyes begin to flutter, I don’t dare to move an inch, We may be at our final sputter.
Till his eyes fly open and land on mine, No words needed in his warning. Don’t leave me mama, I’m watching you, I expect you here in the morning.
And with that eyes shut, I sigh relief And tip toe out the door. But not before I place a teddy, Right where I was before.
Next is to lay the baby down, Who’s gotten heavy in my arms. He stirs and starts to cry a bit, Until he’s patted, a soothing balm.
I silently back out of the room, Daring not to take a breath. Then victory dance right down the hall, Silent, and ready to decompress.
With tea in hand, a good book picked, I settle back into my bed. And as I open up to the page I left, I look up to see a little head -
Bobbing up past my feet, And clambering up beside me. I should have known he would appear, My little mr curiosity.
So snuggled in by my side, He happily drifts off to sleep. His little hand again in mine, Happy dreams now his to keep.
I go back to my book, but the baby stirs, I swear I’d fed him only minutes before. So I close my book and up I get, Life governed by Murphy’s Law.
Yes our bedtime routine is hectic, It’s certainly not a bore. And when my babies are finally dreaming, I get to listen to their father snore.
