Melancholy Mommy

I'm feeling down this evening. It was a tough night -- emotionally.

T Junior only took a 45-minute nap this afternoon and the two hours between then and bath time were long, to say the least. Normally a happy baby, tonight he was irritable.

Actually, inconsolable is a better word.

Dinner was difficult. He usually puts his food away pretty easily. Instead, he swatted at his spoonfuls of Split Pea and Carrot Soup and his oatmeal. The yogurt, of course, went in the mouth with no problems.

The cranky mood followed us up the stairs for his bedtime ritual, which I recently rearranged a little.

Our routine prior to last Friday: a soothing massage for his legs and feet with Johnson & Johnson's lavendar baby lotion, then four board books (usually "Yummy Yucky," "Noisy Farm," "Miss Spider's Tea Party" and "Dog"). After the last word has been spoken, I switched off the lamp next to the big comfy chair and he nursed, but not to sleep. When he was done, I picked him up, whispered "night-night time, love you, sweet dreams" and set him in his crib.

In the interest of freeing Mommy up in the evenings (eventually), he now gets all of this just in a different order: massage, nurse, books, lights-out lullaby and bed. So far, things have been going OK.

But tonight, after I made the room dark, and stood up to sing to him, he whimpered. It was the "I don't want you to go" noise.

I hugged him close, rocked and whisper-sang "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" in his ear. He turned and kissed me. Gently, though. It was not his rowdy open-mouth smackaroo. I tightened my arms around his baby body and swayed a bit faster. He turned and brushed his soft little lips across mine again. I looked into his eyes for a split second and saw something.

I'm not sure what it was. Maybe worry, maybe he was sulking or maybe he was just tired.

Whatever his eyes were trying to tell me, it was just the beginning of a short, but no less heartbreaking, struggle to sleep.

Now, he is quiet. Dreaming.

And I feel sad.