Skip to main content

Sleepy Prayers

A small mewling breaks into my night’s sleep. Thankfully, I sleep lighter than was my wont growing up. If I roll over to steal a few more winks, the mewling turns into small cries and groggily I attempt to open my sleep soaked eyes.

Food. Felicity needs food. The thoughts fall through my brain.

Her little arms flail helplessly in her monkey bassinet and her tiny feet kick at her blanket. If her cries could be translated I’m sure they would consist in “Mommy, please pick me up. I’m hungry.” Or the imperative, “Feed me now!” Pulling myself up, I bend down and pick her up.  

The only light turned on is the light above the stove. It casts a faint glow into our bedroom. Holding her I take her to the front room and sit in the glider and rock. I’m sleepy, but I try to hold the moment— “Don’t blink it goes so fast,” people say. I’m trying not to blink, but my eyes are so sleepy.

“Let’s pray,” I tell her. Her lips smack and her eyes open and close. She doesn’t know what prayer is. Sometimes, I’m not sure if I know what prayer is—but we pray. It says, “If two or more are gathered in my name there I am in the midst of them.” I wonder if Felicity counts. And I decide she must count, because she is a person. We pray for daddy. We pray for friends. I pray for her. And I rock and offer up soft-voiced prayers.


They are my own mewlings and cries to God.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Leaf

  A couple of weeks ago, I read “The Leaf by Niggle” aloud to five-year old Felicity. Since I was teaching on the story a few days later, I counted my inspiration to read-aloud as a double win towards homeschooling and teaching prep. Didn’t know that my five-year-old, would once again teach me.     Tolkien’s short story follows the life of a Niggle, a painter, who envisions a glorious tree, but only manages to paint leaves, a paltry homage to his vision. About half-way through the story Niggle is sent on a journey, presumably death. After some time in a dismal hospital and workhouse, a train takes him to a familiar green space. As he wanders, wonderingly, he discovers it. The tree. His tree.   Felicity turned to me as I read and she said with the joy of discovery in her voice,    “Mommy! Did God make his tree real?”   “Yes, Felicity. Yes, that is it. That is exactly it.”    Tolkien and Lewis both thought that fairy-tales and myths, those bear...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Adventure Begins Very Early on the Morning of July 15th

Note: In-N-Out is the first place I go when I arrive back in California. The California chain tastes like coming home. My day had been planned. I was going to walk with friends. Have coffee with my mom and a phone date in the evening. Followed by my husband asking, “what should we have for dinner.” And me responding “In-n-Out.” I’ll admit it I did exercise in hopes of expediting the labor process, but as I had been told, “babies will come when they will.” So I laid my plans: Plan A the aforementioned walk etc. and Plan B— Have a baby. When my mom arrived, full of more energy than I’m used to her having (a contrast with my labored lack of energy), it was apparent that Plan B was in effect. We were most definitely not going to coffee. I was going to have a baby. Labor… it’s not fun. Epidurals… they are a wonderful invention. It was late evening. I’d hoped they’d let me push on the 14 th . The history nerd in me was caught by the idea of having a baby on Bastille D...
1 comment
Read more

The Bicycle Onsie is too Small!!

The fabric stretched around Felicity’s little feet and nestled her in a perfect fit. It was the first time I’d put Felicity in a onesie with feet. Up until then, she wore t-shirt onesies that snapped around her diaper. They were light and perfect for the hot summer days. But when nighttime came, Felicity liked to be cuddled and the footsie onsie was the perfect solution. Up until now, all Felicity’s clothes flopped and folded around Felicity’s tiny, baby body. She swam in the extra fabric. This onsie was snug and it fit like it was made for her. She’d wave her little legs and arms and the white fabric with little bicycles printed across its surface stretched with her. I loved putting her into it. Then something happened. It didn’t take long…maybe a couple of weeks. The bicycle onesie was washed following a diaper explosion and the cotton cloth shrunk. But just a little. Felicity’s cheeks and limbs became rounder and her eyes wider. She watched the ceiling fan and figured o...
Post a Comment
Read more