Ari’s cries woke me out of a deep slumber at 4:51 a.m. I was less than thrilled to be pulled away from my dream. I’ve come to expect Ari to sleep until I wake him on the mornings Isabelle goes to school. However, this morning was different. He needed me. I plodded to his room, picked him up, and attempted to rock him back to sleep.
Nine minutes after I set him back down in his crib, I heard his cries again. This time, I heard someone else’s footsteps in the hallway. I heard a door open, then close. And then I heard more footsteps. Finally, a bleary-eyed six-year-old entered my room and declared, “Ari’s crying woke me up!”
“It woke me up too,” I told Isabelle.
“I was sleeping,” Isabelle stated.
“So was I,” I reminded her.
Together, we walked back into Ari’s room. A moment later, my husband joined us. I changed Ari’s diaper while Marc made Ari’s bottle. We couldn’t persuade Isabelle to go back to sleep for an hour. Instead, she perched herself in Ari’s glider and rocked back and forth.
“I’m only a teensy bit mad at you, Ari, for waking me up,” Isabelle stated.
“I guess I’m more upset with him than you are,” I said while noticing the deep ache on the left side of my head. I really needed to sleep until 6:15, I thought.
“How mad are you?” Isabelle asked.
I looked down at Ari’s smiling face. How could I be mad at this precious boy? He’s a great nighttime sleeper. (NOTE: He’s a pitiful napper, but I can’t hold that against him because solid nighttime sleep is way more important to me!)
“I’m a little bit mad,” I replied, “because I needed more rest.”
“Well, I’m just a teensy bit mad at him,” Isabelle repeated.
A few minutes later, Isabelle was kissing her brother’s cheeks, head, and hands. All was forgiven for the early wake-up. This is love, I thought.
Happy Valentine’s Day!