On the cusp

Regardless of the fact that I sometimes lose my cool due to my frustration at being the only parent who has to do everything, one of the things I love and hate is putting Mila to sleep at night.

I hate the part between reading her a story (the same story, Disney's Monster's Inc. every night) and her actually falling asleep when she cries and tries to fight sleep off. She always loses anyway.

I love the part right between her drifting off and her falling asleep. When she's on the cusp. I can always tell when she's faking and when she's falling. Her breathing becomes more even, but almost undetectable (sometimes scary). Her little arms and legs go still, but she continues to curl her toes and fingers.

She reminds of me of some coral dwelling sea creature in this way, warding off predators by continuing to move in her sleep. But most telling is her eyes. They are closed, of course, but her eyelids go from scrunched closed to smooth and almost shiny looking. I know she's really asleep when her eyelids are oval shaped, and I can see all the little tiny purple veins in them.

My favorite is when she mutters as she's finally giving in. She'll say things like "Mommy" or "Do-wah" (Dora, as in the Explorer) and then she'll sigh and I know I've won the good fight. But I can never just jump up and leave. I have to wait, just like I know I would have liked my parents to do, until she is secure in dreamland or in sleep.

As a kid, I remember feeling the most safe at night when I knew my parents were there. And honestly, I don't have anything else to do. So I wait, for my Mila to fall solidly asleep, and I think about things like her father, and if she'll always have the same sleeping face as she did when she was an infant (no joke, it's still exactly the same). And I think about scary stories on tv and from my friends and how I never want to miss any of these sleeping breaths.

She has no idea, but to me, every breath she has is like a miracle to me.