Sunday, October 4, 2009


It's Saturday morning, 3:22am.
I hear you cry and then scream.

I bolt upright, my heart in my throat as I dash to you in the dark.

It's unusual, to say the least, you being awake at night.

I fumble in the dark, looking for you in your bed.

Stuck, you wail, from the tangled confines of your star bedding.

I find the center of your heat, feel the little girl lump and see that yes, you are very stuck and tangled up indeed.

I right you against your pillow, NaNa tucked under your chin, and shh-shh-soothe you until your chest stops heaving with fear and you fall sleep again.

{Reminds me of another member of this household who needs help getting untangled from bed sometimes, too.}

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