Comfort and joy: a letter to my daughter
NS August 24th, 2009
Dear TNC,
Last night you woke up crying, saying your throat hurt. Daddy and I tried to comfort you, get you to take medicine, drink some water…but still the tears rolled down your soft cheeks and the sobs wracked your small body. When you are like this we feel so helpless to make it all better and would do anything in the world to relieve your pain, or fear. All we could do was hold you and let you know we were there, for as long as you needed us. Daddy went downstairs to take care of some things and I laid down in bed with you. I began stroking your hair and singing you our special ‘Night Night Song’, which I made up when you were a baby. It goes:
Let’s lie down and rest our heads
Let’s lie down, it’s time for bed
Let’s lie down and count some sheep
It’s off to dreamland, off to sleep
You drifted off to sleep and so I gently extricated myself from your tear-sodden embrace, leaving you to get some much-needed rest. A short time later you woke again and Daddy went in to be with you, undoubtedly stroking your face and hair and holding you in his arms as well.
You are so loved.
Daddy slept in your bed with you all night, his feet hanging over the edge of your small person’s bed and tucked precariously on the edge of the narrow mattress. Never once has he complained when you have needed him to do this. Never has he hesitated to give you the comfort you need to feel safe and secure. Neither of us have. When we say we would do anything for you, we truly mean it. Anything.
One of the biggest joys of being your mother is not only getting to take care of you and nurture you when you need it, but watching you learn how to do the same. Because of your late-night waking last night, and the constant wakings of your brother for unrelated reasons, I am feeling rather tired this morning. After an initial burst of energy and coffee, I began to fade about a half hour ago. I told you I was very sleepy and you immediately told me to lay on the sofa. You ran over and cleared all the toys off and fluffed up the pillows, arranging them just so for me. I lay down and you curled up with me, your face centimetres from mine as I half-closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. Then you began to stroke my face and hair and whispered, “It’s okay, Mummy. I’m here” over and over. I smiled and looked into your eyes. You instructed me to close them again and I obliged. You then began to sing in your sweet, 3-year-old voice:
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are…
You sang it twice, like I always do for you with the Night Night Song, and then kissed me on the cheek and whispered “Good night, I love you.”
I love you too, my darling.
- Antics of The Noble Child , Parenting 101 , Squish Squish
- Comments(17)
That’s beautiful!
I’m having a hormone overload and actually have tears in my eyes. It’s lovely when they are so tender right back.
What a moving post. Your little girl is very lucky to have such lovely parents x
I have tears in my eyes even without any hormones other than normal kicking about. What a lovely letter. Cubling sang the consolation tune (for head bashes on tables, scraped knees etc) to her daddy yesterday when he hurt his finger. It’s such a lovely moment to witness.
This is so sweet.
Is she better today?
OMG that is such the sweetest post! I feel all mummy lovey inside! xxxx
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww xxx
So beautiful x
Thanks for sharing this wonderful moment. We miss you all.
Very sweet. Though, those nighttime visits can be exhausting. We’re trying to get Zach into a bed – unsuccessfully thus far – and I spent a couple of hours on a single bed with a restless boy last night. Joy.
How lovely. I was quite shocked on Sunday afternoon, when I was feeling exhausted and really needed a nap. I asked Rosemary, ‘Would you mind if I put the TV on for you for a half an hour, while I have a little nap on the sofa?’ And she said ‘Of course you can, Mummy.’ and brought me a blanket and proceeded not to interrupt me for half an hour. (Normally, if I doze off on the sofa, she’ll start climbing and jumping on me!)
Also, one night last week, I was attempting to put her to bed, while Chris was out walking the dog. I hadn’t put her to bed for a while and I was feeling particularly pregnant and inpatient. She normally goes to sleep between 6 and 6.30. She was still up at 7.30 when Chris got back. I was so tired and hormonal that I ended up in tears. And she came over to me and stroked my hair and said ‘Aw, it’s OK Mummy. Don’t cry.’ and gave me hugs and kisses. And I had to laugh and smile, it was too sweet. For a bit.
That is simply beautiful. And I love the idea of writing a letter to your daughter. Mine is 4 and what you write rings completely true – slight difference being that our daughter comes into our bed and due to a cacophony or snoring from ‘the girls’ I end up sleeping in her bed. Sore ankles in the morning for sure…
interesting to see at what young ages children begin to understand the role of caregiving, isn’t it? she is such a sweet and sensitive little lady. i can just hear her singing “twinkle twinkle” and taking care of you. i miss you guys!!
How precious!
Love to all of you
She is obviously a credit to you. A beautiful post.
CJ xx
Thank you for sharing this. It’s so easy to forget all the precious little things your children do when they are little. Here’s one you’ve written down so it will never be lost.
God bless you all.
I saw your name mentioned by a few bloggers who had completed Linda’s writer meme. They’re right. You write beautifully. Your daughter sounds wonderful. I hope she’s better now.
My baby, one today, spent the last five minutes before bed giving me kisses. This was the first time he’s kissed me and will hopefully not be the last.
*tear
Thanks for sharing this lovely moment with your daughter!