Lately Timothy has been waking everyone up in the middle of every night, screaming. Usually he calms himself down and goes back to sleep after a minute, without any intervention. But one night it was really bad, and I was convinced he was either in horrible pain, or terrified by a nightmare. I picked him up, and he immediately went quiet, and adhered to me like a starfish. Whatever the problem was, I was the solution.
Oh, how I love having magical powers. Mama Magic won't last much longer - I figure I've got two years, tops, and probably less, given the zest with which Timothy strides toward independence. How many more chances will I get to rock my baby to sleep? Was that the last time?
My Timmy, Pumpkin, the Smallest of them Allest...wouldn't you like to rock just a little bit longer?
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