in the wee small hours of the morning

Last night was really, really cold.  Granted, I live in the sub-tropics, so my cold may very well not be your cold.  But our house is not designed for winter (actually, it's not designed for summer either, but that's another, more whingy post), and it was icy in all our bedrooms.  We haven't got the heaters out yet; that's my job for today.  It's been a really long, hot, wet summer, and this took us all by surprise.  The Bear was rugged up as snug as a bug in a rug, and his windows were closed.  I thought he'd be ok, but I was wrong.


At about 2.30 he woke up crying.  I went into his room and the egg-night-light-thermometer-thingy was blue.  Blue for brrrrrr, naturally.  It was 13.8C in his room.  If you hang on a minute, I'll convert that in my head because I'm very clever.  Ok, difficult maths done now, it's 56.84F.  I think that's a wee bit chilly, especially for a small boy who doesn't keep the blankets on.  So I picked him up for a quick cuddle, gave him back his dummy (pacifier...you guys need to learn Australian English!), and enjoyed the soft, warm weight of him as he snuggled in to me.  Then I popped him back in to his cot, pulled his blanket up and went out again.  He went straight back to sleep.


Lying in bed, unable to get back to sleep, I thought about how lucky we are that he's a good sleeper - that both our kids are good sleepers.  It's not often that I get to have these quiet, snuggly middle of the night times with my kids.  If it happened more often, I think it'd drive me round the twist.  But because it's rare, I enjoy it.


3.15am, still not asleep, and I heard the Gig's door open.  This is especially unusual, because that girl could sleep through a cyclone, an earthquake, a fire alarm, a mosquito whining and a dog barking, all at once.  My poor little baby girl was feeling sick.  So she climbed into bed with us and I got to have my second warm cuddle of the night.  She burrowed her way down the bed until only her nose was poking out, and stayed there for about ten minutes, before she announced that Pacino's snoring was "too much, Mum.  How do you stand it?" and went back to her own bed.


Finally I went back to sleep, until the Bear got cold again at 5.15.  I tried to ignore him, but then I felt too mean.  If I was cold, in bed with Pacino (although he got up about 30 seconds later...bloody workaholic), how cold must my baby boy be?  So I got up and brought him into bed with me.  We lay there for a while, practising our gentle hands on each other's faces, singing songs and snuggling, until the sound of Pacino's shower sang its siren song to the Bear.  At which point I got up for good, took the Bear out to the kitchen and made a cup of tea.


I love my sleep.  Some days, I feel like I'm marking time till I can get back between the sheets.  I can never get enough sleep, and I'm usually very, very cranky if' I'm woken.  But last night some kind of Winter Wonderland must have cast a spell over my house.  I was with my babies in the middle of the night, and I loved it.








PS - the Gig was fine this morning :)