Late Night with John

The other night I stayed up after Windy went to bed and played some computer games. John had been sleeping and so the living room was quiet and dark. About 1:00 or so, John woke up and looked around. He decided that he didn't want to go back to sleep, so he stood up and started yelling. I shut down the computer and went over to him. He raised both his arms, which is his sign for "pick me up," and squawked at me. When he's tired he holds his small blanket in one hand, so it looked like he was waving a flag at me. I picked him up and carried him over to the changing table, changed his diaper (which was wet) and zipped his jammies back up. I then carried him with me into the kitchen and rinsed and refilled his bottle from earlier in the evening. He was only mildly interested in the bottle, but having it calmed him down. I carried him back into the living room and pushed 'play' on his goodnight CD. He didn't want me to set him down, so I held him. Blanket still clutched in his hand, he laid his head down on my shoulder and sucked on his pacifier. I could tell that he was sleepy, but he didn't want to be by himself in the crib. I slowly walked around the room, John sitting in the crook of my left arm, his cheek resting on my shoulder. I put my right hand on his back and listened to him breathe. I almost cried. There is really no way to describe the experience of holding my son as he sleeps peacefully. I know now what parents mean when they say they would do anything for their children.
He finally drifted off into deep sleep, his arms and legs limp in the way that Windy and I call "floppy baby," I laid him in the crib. He woke up for a moment, just long enough to look at me with his eyes half open and roll onto his face. He pulled his blanked up onto his face and tucked his knees under his body so that his butt was stuck up in the air. A moment later soft snores told me that he was asleep again. I put a blanket over him in case the room got cold and tip toed up the stairs to bed.