You wake inconsolable, your up-from-nap cries sounding alarm.
Nothing can soothe you today, not even the warmth of my arm.
We get your milk cup, settle down on the couch,
But your little body won’t calm, not even a slouch.
Your sobs wrack your body, tears stream down your face.
Your pacifier makes slobber rain all over the place.
I snuggle you close, wrap my arms ’round you tight;
The cries start to cease, slowly giving up the fight.
Finally you breathe, leaning into my chest.
My mind slows to ease you down; Mama knows you best.
After a minute I can see the fear starts to return.
I don’t want the cries to come back, for just that I yearn.
The chipper truck is outside; we can hear it on the street.
You want to go see it; I’m back on my feet.
We watch out the window, your tiny blinks on my cheek.
My arms are your strength whenever you’re weak.
Your little head pressed firmly against mine
Makes me want to stand there forever, wishing I could stop time.
Soon Lana comes out, awake from a nap of her own,
And you’re now willing to get down, stand on the floor where the sun has just shone.
Baby fingers go back to carrying Shopkins around,
Placing each one in a line on my lap, barely making a sound.
Your peace is restored, no more tears on your face.
I’m grateful for that quiet moment with you in our own time and space.
