There is always that moment when you hear your little one cry that you think that you might be dreaming so ignore it. Then you suddenly realise that it is, in fact, your little one crying and a wave of guilt flashes over you at just how many times you ignored those cries.
My morning started like this.
As I opened my eyes I could tell that it was earlier than usual. I could hear the whimpering over the monitor from Piglet so I forced myself out of bed. Popping on my glasses I was able to see the time…
I stood looking at the clock and rolled my eyes, 5.40am! really?
Early or not Piglet needed me so I headed over to her nursery to see what was wrong. She has only slept in her cot a handful of times and still getting used to the space so I wondered whether that had stirred her. Having just come back from a weekend away and her routine thrown out of the window, possibly this had unsettled her too.
I reached in her cot and tucked her up into my arms and headed downstairs to start the day. As I slipped onto the sofa she drifted back to sleep, obviously only needed a cuddle from Mummy to soothe her back to sleep. As I looked at her sleeping it took me right back to those early days when where she would often be tucked up in my arms snuggly in the wee hours of the day.
I am lucky in that she generally sleeps through. I am lucky that she enjoys her sleep as much as her Mummy does. I am lucky that she doesn’t wake hourly like her brother did. However, looking at her this morning for a brief moment I missed those middle of the night snuggles. The times when it was just me and her together.
Then I remembered that it was 5.40am and it was going to be a long day, so I closed my eyes, snuggled her closer and dozed on the sofa together until 7am – a much more respectable time of the day to get up.