Scooter was awake last night between 11:30pm and 12:30am. At first she complained of a tummy ache. I fetched the "bucket" to prevent her purged her tummy contents from landing on the floor or bed.
At her insistence, I laid on the hard, but carpeted floor next to her bed, offering her support, "just in case." I listened to her toss and turn.
I indulged her. Maybe she didn't feel well.
So, I accompanied her to the potty a couple of times. No success on either end. I got her a tissue and a drink of water. Each time, I returned to my post on the floor, struggled to find a comfort zone and closed my eyes. Within moments of closing my eyes, a little voice whispered, "Mommy! Mommy, I need..... "
Next, she needed her Duke-bear from the toy chest at the foot of her bed. I satisfied her desire because everyone could use a supportive friend when they hork, right? I stayed. I listened. I waited.
My flexibility waned when Scooter requested "a friend" from her toy-box for the third time. My doubts of her needing to hork rose. She was yanking me around, but it took me an hour to figure it out. It was a critical hour, too.
Today, I'm a mess. In the blink of an eye, our newborn babies learn to sleep through the night. How quickly we forget how physically tired we once were.
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