An Open Letter to my Son

Dear Henry,
Mama loves you.  Really, I do.  But we need a little alone time.  Your dad and I jokingly call it "Noam time" from a funny article in The Onion.  We think you'll like The Onion some day, if you have inherited any of your parents' quirky sense of humor.

Anywho, Noam time is a good thing especially about 3:00 a.m.  I'm still not sure why you needed to discuss so many things, and so loudly, at that time this morning.  Did it just come to you and you were afraid you would forget?  I understand.  I often have great thoughts that escape me.  But I promise, all of it could wait until the sun comes up.  We'll be here at, say, 6:00 a.m., just about 12 feet from your bedroom door in our own bedroom.  Just past the cat sleeping in the hall.  That's where Mama and Daddy can be found at that hour.  OK, Daddy is on a business trip right now so technically he's not there now but we really didn't need to discuss where your Dadadada was at 3:00 a.m.  I had told you previously, during daylight hours.  I'm sure your father explained he'd be gone a few days before he left.  Could we kindly rehash the conversation a little later in the day?

Yes, we have a kitty.  He's been hanging around this place much longer than you.  He will learn to tolerate you as he tolerates us.  I know you love him.  Daddy and I agree that of the sounds you're currently making, kitty is one of the clearest.  We love that you are so excited every time you see the kitty.  However, kitty needs a good 22 hours of sleep a day lest he be crankier than he already is. That's why he came into the room to voice his displeasure.  It wasn't so you could squeal with excitement.  It was because he's pretty cranky about 3:00 a.m. wake up calls, too.

And Henry, dear Henry, can I explain thread count to you?  We have these luxuriously soft sheets that were a splurge for us several years ago.  They have just gotten softer with time.  Coupled with a snuggly down comforter, it is a little fluffy utopia every night.  I'd really love to be able to spend at least 7 hours in there.  I know you can do it.  I know your bed isn't quite as luxurious--blame all those pesky AAP guidelines about blankets, etc.  But  I've known you to sleep 12 (or more!) hours without needing your mamamama at all.  I was in a little more need than you were after that time but that's a different conversation.  But sleep, let's get back to it, OK?

I'm glad that you were able to get a little more sleep after our conversation this morning.  But, see, 4:30 is awfully close to the time I have to get up for the day so the 30 minute nap was just a tease of what I missed in those two hours we were conversing.  Or, you were conversing and I was politely nodding (or nodding off, tomato/tomahto).  I partied with you in the wee hours of the night in those early days.  I've done the 3:30 wide awake on purpose thing.  You will too but not until you are grown and out of my house.  That's an order.

Love you bunches,
Mama