About an hour into my sleep, I was awoken by a cry.
It continued for the next 10 minutes, every minute becoming more urgent than the last.
Arthur...I thought, go to sleep!
Finally, I got up and fished around for his pacifier, hoping that it (as it did 99% of the time) would do the trick. After climbing into bed, I realized only too late that it wasn't going to work. He was still upset about something or other and whatever he was so mad about, it would take more than a pacifier to fix.
Ten minutes later, I went back in his room, wrapped him in a blanket, picked him up, and rocked him back to sleep.
In retrospect, he must have had a bad dream and, being frightened, couldn't get back to sleep on his own. He needed to be close to someone to get back to sleep. He needed to know that he was safe, that he was protected. As I watched his eyes close and his breathing steady, I smiled to myself. We all like to know that we are safe and loved and (to go further) our accomplishments are recognized .
We don't always feel this way. I know that there have been many times when I've felt abandoned - by friends, parents, sisters, and God, but my faith has always brought me back. As I look at my surroundings, I remember how safe I actually am and how amazing this world is. I've cultivated a good relationship with my family after being a pretty bratty teenager and I've finally made it to a point in my relationship with the Universe that I no longer feel like it is a necessity to "get-down-on-my-knees" pray, but rather whisper prayers throughout the day, letting them be caught in the wind and swept to the heavens. I pray for health, I pray for love, and I pray to be a good mother.
He laughed in his sleep while I held him and tired though I was, I smiled. I picked him up and put him back in his crib.
Sweet dreams, my little one.
Blessed be.
It continued for the next 10 minutes, every minute becoming more urgent than the last.
Arthur...I thought, go to sleep!
Finally, I got up and fished around for his pacifier, hoping that it (as it did 99% of the time) would do the trick. After climbing into bed, I realized only too late that it wasn't going to work. He was still upset about something or other and whatever he was so mad about, it would take more than a pacifier to fix.
Ten minutes later, I went back in his room, wrapped him in a blanket, picked him up, and rocked him back to sleep.
In retrospect, he must have had a bad dream and, being frightened, couldn't get back to sleep on his own. He needed to be close to someone to get back to sleep. He needed to know that he was safe, that he was protected. As I watched his eyes close and his breathing steady, I smiled to myself. We all like to know that we are safe and loved and (to go further) our accomplishments are recognized .
We don't always feel this way. I know that there have been many times when I've felt abandoned - by friends, parents, sisters, and God, but my faith has always brought me back. As I look at my surroundings, I remember how safe I actually am and how amazing this world is. I've cultivated a good relationship with my family after being a pretty bratty teenager and I've finally made it to a point in my relationship with the Universe that I no longer feel like it is a necessity to "get-down-on-my-knees" pray, but rather whisper prayers throughout the day, letting them be caught in the wind and swept to the heavens. I pray for health, I pray for love, and I pray to be a good mother.
He laughed in his sleep while I held him and tired though I was, I smiled. I picked him up and put him back in his crib.
Sweet dreams, my little one.
Blessed be.
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