“Momma. Momma? Momma!!!”
It’s the darkest time of night.
A little voice crashes into my slumber.
Creak, crack go the floorboards as I fumble towards her room.
Her tiny face, muddled with sleep,
is happy to see me.
Like in the old days
hour after hour she would call and her daddy or I would go
Creak, crack on the floorboards, fumbling towards her room,
Again and again.
A steady hot river of coffee flowed into our veins, lifting us above the days, weeks, months and years of
not enough sleep.
Now the nighttime calls are less frequent.
They are almost a privilege,
The closing of the chapters of six years and two babies.
When the call comes I go
Creak, crack on the floorboards, fumbling towards her room,
To hold her close and rock her
Breathe in her warm smell
And listen to her gentle breaths
That echo those long, long nights that are slowly fading.
murphy must have had kids 
“Privilege” – yes, that’s the word to describe how I feel about the late night callings nowadays….well, most times anyways 🙂 Love your post, Anna. Beautifully put.
Thanks. ❤
Not so long ago, I too had some sleep deprived nights but holding my little boy in my arms, watching him smile while asleep, feeling that inner joy of every parent, I will do it all over again in a heart beat. Beautiful post. Happy Holidays to you and your family.