A Moment To Herself

I typically get up around 5:30 each morning (that is if the night before wasn't a brutal battle with hyped up pshyco babies) and leave for work between 6 and 6:15.  It's a relativly peaceful time in our house.  Gina's asleep (or faking asleep) and the girls are still passed out and satisfied from the 3am feeding.  I tiptoe around the house getting dressed and packing my lunch and gym bag all the while terrified that the heaviest of foot step or an over excited dog tail will cause an increase in the decible level that will "bring on the pain".  Yes, even if such a disaster should occur I could still walk out the door with a "hey, sorry honey but I gotta get to work" and leave the scene behind. ... of course that invites the ultimate payback when I get home when I hear "sorry honey, I gotta teach my yoga class".  So I'd prefer NOT to invite such a return.  Anyway, I make it a point on my way out to steal one last glance of the girls and make sure all is well.  Binkies are in if needed and blankets are tight, anything to add a few extra moments to Gina's sleep.  Today, I walked in to find Genevieve wide awake and staring at the ceiling.  I crept closer to make sure I was seeing it right.  She rolled her head to look at me, smiled and then went back to her private contemplation.  I stroked her face to sooth her, though she didn't need it.  She graciously smiled but again returned to her thoughts.  I put her pacifier in, tilted her body to the side and retucked her tightly.  She took a prolonged blink, but quickly readjusted herself to her previous position and continued on.  It was an amazing moment for me (although I feared what might happen as soon as I left the building) but it reaffirms in my mind that my daughter is this little person.  Not just the screaming, eating, pooping machine that some parents with post traumatic stress disorder have recounted to me, but this little mind in this little body who who aside from the freedom of mobility, the power of speach and the understanding of the complexities of a toilet is just like me.  Who screams when she needs to, eats when she's hungry but also takes time for hersef, to lay on her back, stare at the ceiling and drift away in her own private monolouge while the rest of the world is silent.