You Had Me at “Tay”

Ever since I’ve gotten back from Las Vegas, Allison has really started touching me with her words. It happens mostly when she awakes in the night and wants to come into bed. I’m not exactly sure what this says about me, but I’m thankful that my attempt to teach her to sleep through the night by herself never went anywhere.

Not too long after I went to bed the first night back, Allison started to stir. Typically when this happens, I lie perfectly still and try not to breathe. It is inevitable that she’ll end up in the bed at some point during the night. Still, I like to get a little sleep under my belt beforehand. She didn’t cry or even whine. She just said, “Momma.” I’m not sure how to capture her tone in words. It was a combination of question, longing and trust. It’s funny how so much can be communicated with just one word. Now how do you turn that down? I got her out of her crib and held her close to me for a minute before I went back into the bed. I slept very well that night.

Tuesday night Ally started to cry just as I was getting ready to go to bed. I walked into the room and her crying stopped. I said, “Ally, I will get you after I put on my jammies.” In the dark of the room she replied, “Tay.” It just warmed my heart. I’m not really sure why. Thinking back on it, it was actually a pathetic kind of response – the response of a child not immediately getting what she wants but agreeing to be patient only as long as necessary. In the end, she still started whimpering because I apparently didn’t undress and redress fast enough. Maybe it touched me so much because she’s at the age where she’s beginning to more effectively express her likes, her dislikes, and small amounts of frustration to those around her. I feel like we’re at the same crossroads. The love I have for her – the love that has been there all along – is finally being made known to me. The disconnect I have been living with since her birth is starting to fade away, allowing the language of my heart to rise over the once constant din in my brain.