Truly, one of my favorite times of day is when Bryan has gone to bed and it’s just me and Tony. Of course, it’s just me and Tony all day long, but this late at night, he’s quiet and well-fed and super cuddly. He will burrow up under my chin and doze, all the while talking and giggling and laughing at jokes that I told him WAY earlier in the day.
Now, that very special bonding time between mother and Tony lasts for about fifteen minutes, because then I’m ready to put him down in his crib. He is a tricky one, that Tony, and he will give me about five minutes of quiet.. enough for me to believe that he is soundly asleep for the night.. before erupting into some horrible gasping wretches that have me convinced that he has swallowed some bedding. I’ll run in there, terrified because of these awful noises, and no, he’ll still be soundly asleep. And quiet, suddenly. Asleep and quiet and angelic-looking. So I leave again, and again he will give me five minutes.. just long enough, I might add, to get soap on my face or drop trau to pee.. and then again, wretches of death boom through the monitors in our house.
This little scenario continues two or three times more a night, until finally I figure that darwinism really does have a place in our society and if he’s stupid enough to swallow bedding, he wasn’t ever going to make it past the potty training age anyhow and I go to bed. (Where I sleep fitfully, listening to every peep on the monitor and praying that we both make it through another night unscathed.)
Motherhood is cruel.
But oh so worth it.