“Mama, Mama, Mama!” She says urgently from the other room.
I look blearily at the clock as I climb out of bed. The red numbers glow a painfully early 2:07. I stumble to her room. I cleaned last night, so there are fewer sharp edged blocks to step on between my bed and hers.
“It’s okay, Baby.” I put my hand down on her side gently, trying to soothe her back to sleep. “Mama’s here.”
Her eyes are still closed. Her breathing is steady. It was probably just a dream and she was just talking in her sleep.
“Mama.” She smiles, her eyes still closed. “Mama, I did it. I did it! High-five, Mama!” Her little arm rises up out of the tangle of covers and I tap it with my own.
“Good job, Baby!” I say, sounding a little bewildered.
She snuggles back into her covers, “I did good job. I did good job.” Her breathing softens and she smiles again in her sleep.
I stumble back to my own bed. As I slide between the covers I hear her giggle from the other room.
I’m tired, but I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I get to have the most interesting conversations with her when she’s asleep. It’s always been this way. Hopefully it always will.
Babies learn and practice in their sleep. Her first smile, laugh, words, roll-over, crawl, sit-up, and stand-up were all in her sleep. Each time she did the same thing when she was awake a few weeks later.
This morning, after a few cups of coffee, I find myself wondering what “it” she’s been practicing in her sleep. What new milestone should I be expecting?
I think I’m a little afraid.