The bedtime routine for Amarie is pretty standard — shower, hugs and kisses, milk, prayer, sleep. I would lay my tired head to rest with her, stroking her hair as she hugged her bunny to sleep, before climbing out of her bed when she’s in dreamland.
Some nights she’d toss and turn quietly for a good long hour before she finally drifts off to sleep. Other nights, she would flip over to her side and KO instantly. And then, on other eventful nights, she would be up and refreshed after her milk, walking about her single bed (that’s big enough to be a playpen); jumping, laughing, climbing, screaming, crying, and playing. On such party nights (as what Malcolm and I would like to call it), I would chide and chastise (in a loving tone) her to lay back down to sleep. More than establishing a bedtime routine/habit, I needed my baby to sleep so that I, too, can rest.
But in the recent few nights, she would lay still in bed after she’s done with her milk, but would soon get up and violently push my head up till I’m sitting straight and upright. The first time this happened, I frowned and was about to grumble her back to sleep, but I waited to see what she was up to.
Using her tiny little strong hands, she would pull my legs straight, and squeeze her little bum between my thighs so that she’s nice and snuggled. She’d lean her head against my chest, resting her neck on my baby bump. It was then that I realised that she just wanted to be held and cuddled.
She would want kisses on her cheeks, and would give me kisses on both my cheeks. She would play with my freshly washed hair, and tug at my t-shirt. She would twist and turn to get comfy, but then quickly bounce up to give me a tight hug, before plopping back down into my lap as she snuggled her face into my neck. She’d play with my fingers, and stare into my eyes in the dark, and with her sweet little voice, she would giggle and poke my nose with her fingertip while saying “mama, nose!”.
I’d laugh with her, hug her tight, and hold her close to my face as I stared deep into her beautiful eyes. I would squeeze her fatty little thighs, comb her fine thick hair, and hold her hands in prayer. And the thought that would run through my mind as I feel tears sting the back of my eyes, “I love you, my child. I love you.”
How long more before you would grow out of my lap? How long more before I would be busy breastfeeding Baby #2, and have lesser time snuggling you to sleep? How long more before you would kick me out of your bed as you occupy more than half the single bed on your own? How long more can I cuddle you like this?
This little snuggle fest would go on for a good 15-20 minutes, before she would agree to lay back down on her pillow. My eyes that were once too tired to be kept open, were now locked in to her beautiful face. With each cuddle and every big yawn, I would know that she’d soon fall asleep, and drift off knowing that she is deeply loved, fully secured, and safely held.
Through the past few nights, I’ve been looking forward to bedtimes with her. Because more than wanting Amarie to be cuddled, felt loved, and held safely. I want to be held by her, kissed and loved by her too. More than letting her know that she’s dearly loved by her mama, it is through such snuggle sessions that I am reminded that I am dearly loved by her too, and beyond that, by my Father — deeply loved, fully secured, and safely held. (‘:
byamandagrace 