Waking Up

Sounds coming from a small person wake me up in the morning.  I look over at Cameron lying in the Pack ‘N Play.  Other times he’s just inches from me, snuggled in between my right shoulder and Jon’s left.  His eyes are still closed, but he’s squirming.  The fleece swaddle sack keeps his arms and hands glued to his sides so he pumps his legs in and out, trying to escape the tightly wrapped fleece.  His delicate features are beginning to twist up into deep wrinkles and lines, which means he’s just seconds from crying.

I roll to my side and grab my cell phone from the bedside table to check the time.  Jon still has thirty-two more minutes of precious sleep before his alarm goes off,  so I rush to grab a pillow to stick between my back and the headboard.  Then I reach for my nursing pillow.

Cameron is now flinging his head from side to side, so I swoop my hands under his body and pick him up just as the first squak of the morning escapes his mouth.

I’m still only half awake as I plop him down on the nursing pillow and pull my sleep tank to the side.  He lets out a sequence of tiny grunts and squeaks as he finds his way to the right position.

As he nurses, I let my chin fall to my chest so I can admire all the miniature parts of his body that aren’t hidden beneath the swaddle.  His eye lashes seem to look a bit longer and when I look closely, I think I can tell that his eye brows are just the slightest shade darker than they were yesterday.  His reddish-blonde hair is sticking up in every direction, so i smooth it down gently with the pads of my fingers.  Every piece of his face has been perfectly designed.

My mind wanders about as I slowly become more alert to my surroundings.  I try to remember what items are on my to-do list for today.  Then I study Cam’s posture to try and guess whether he is going to fall back asleep after his feeding or whether I will be throwing on a sweater and slippers and beginning my morning routine.  My hope is for the first option.

Cam’s pace begins to slow.  I watch as his strong, intentional pulls turn into tiny quivers.  So I prop him up on my shoulder and pat his back, waiting to hear the cutest kind of burping that there is.

It seems that his eyes are wide open and he’s ready to take on the day, so I kiss his cheeks again and again and whisper to him “good morning” as I slip out of the room.


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