Dance Training at its Best

As I washed her paint crusted hands in warm soapy water this afternoon my daughter succumbed to a nice long yawn followed by a deep breath. I know she's still getting over a cough and could use a nap but I haven't successfully accomplished such a thing in this house yet this year.

Now scrubbing a glittered glob off the counter I hear another nice long yawn from the one who is right underfoot. I was just about to declare quiet time anyway so I see if I can help her to sleep.

My kids always need my help for naps, or else that of a car seat in motion. Up we go. Guiding her brother into his room to his box of spilled tiny legos, their domain already spread over a third of the room. "Find something to do that's quiet, sitting and playing with legos or reading books." The look on both of our faces as he smirks and says, "yes, mommy" reveals that similar words are uttered every day at this time.

Sitting down in my baby's room,  I grab my book and get her settled in to nurse.  As I open up my book I pause to dig through the corners of my brain forcing my memory to remember the last time we successfully sat here.  When was the last time we did this and she gave into sweet repose. I honestly can't find it.  I didn't burn it into my memory, sometime after Thanksgiving, I think. Well before Christmas.

Letting go of the memories of the many attempts since that last unknown nap, I look at her. She lets go looking up, "which sizes" she says and smiles, "pleasssse."  Holding on to the word while dancing her legs as I obligingly switch her long body around. I smile at her encouraging softly and gently for her to close her eyes. She relaxes and almost goes but returns to fight a bit more.

She sheds a few tears before she settles back in as I hum Silent Night. She hums it with me for the first verse the edges of her mouth turned up in a smile, eyes closed. When I begin the second verse I am unaccompanied and I slow down a bit as I hear her breathing slow. By the end of the third verse, she is far off in her mind, sleep has over taken. I slowly and carefully stand up as I have hundreds of times before with both my children.

I chuckle to myself as I turn to her crib. You'd think after nearly five and a half years at this mommy thing I would look into the crib before I had the sleeping baby (or toddler as the case is today) in my arms. Blankets strewn haphazardly along with a doll and stuffed bear. Nowhere without bumps or wrinkles for a sleeping toddler to snuggle in.

Grateful that at least this time the crib side was lowered I walk close to the crib and angle my body slightly. Taking a second to get my balance as I have before, I lift my right leg behind and to the side in a grand rond de jambe motion eventually into the crib. Delicate, controlled, smooth. No sudden or jerking movements keeping nice and fluid so as not to wake sleeping beauty. My socked foot scoots the blankets and toys down making a place for my baby. Once again steadying myself, I circle my leg from the front up and out of the crib while still holding tight my precious one.

Gently covered with a Nana blanket I grab my book and leave her room, looking back for a moment at her peaceful face and lowered eyelids.

I may not be using my "talent" or my degree according to some.  Some might think I gave up on a dream or on myself.  Me.  I know the truth is much more than that.  I use it every day.  A tap rhythm on the dining room floor has a hard time going unnoticed by even the most stubborn child.  As babies they would giggle as I pirouetted.  I sometimes think it is unusual how everything in life just overlaps.  I’m not sure why I find it unusual, it’s my life so past joins present.

Being Mom has been a natural fit for me. Not without trial and learning curves and hard work and striving for unattainable perfection.  Heidi and Mommy overlap at this place and it is safe to say I use my training on a daily basis and for the best purpose ever.  This audience is so sweet, they paint me flowers and always demand an encore!

 

Simply Perfect

My almost one year old is finally jumping onto the solid food bandwagon! As our weaning road begins to take shape, she nurses almost exclusively before naps and at night. Naptime is simply perfect. I never want to give up this opportunity to lie down with my little beauty.

Yes, usually I'm pestering my almost four year old to keep it down and that quiet time means Q.U.I.E.T. or impatiently waiting to do one of the million things on my to do list. Recently however, I’ve been overwhelmed and I’m finding solace in the simple. Time where I am just there with my daughter. Thinking about how much bigger her head is than it was almost a year ago. Breathing in the sweet smell of her while tucking a stray wisp of hair back behind a tiny ear, knowing it will never again be this small.

Sometimes she is so busy that she'll begin attempting calisthenics. Rolling onto her tummy, keeping her head fairly still, she’ll walk her feet up actually lifting her bottom off the bed. Softly I place my hand on her chubby, rosy cheek whispering a reminder that it's time to be going sleepy. Gently I'll pull her lower body close, letting the weight of my arm rest there, holding her still enough for sleep to wash over her.

While last week I was comforted skimming words and silently turning pages, this week I find myself scanning a gorgeous face, memorizing the exact hues of blue in her eyes and beautiful red of her lips. My thoughts wander a bit to the sandy blonde wisps of hair, curious if the hint of strawberry will fade away as more years pass.

Tiny fingers clasp my seemingly giant index finger so softly at first and then strongly they pull my finger toward her chest right below her chin. Tiny toes tickle my pale stretch marked tummy as her little eyelids do touch and goes.

I linger a bit longer, knowing that dishes can wait for a Mommy to marvel over a miracle of life. My own breathing a bit slower, my spirit revived and my heart full, admiring the innocent look of peace sleep brings over my daughter’s face. I soften my footsteps out the door and down the stairs knowing that so much more than perfect nutrition was just shared.