Night hawks

Spring break is finally over, and I'm pleased because it means I'm no longer alone in the dead of night. Our next-door neighbor suffers from insomnia, and so three or four nights a week, I look up during TheGirl's 3 a.m. feeding to see his bedroom light shining. Although I feel bad for him -- and for anyone up at that hour -- it's comforting to know I'm not the only one.

I shouldn't complain. To be honest, I'm growing to enjoy the late-night/early morning feedings. TheGirl, easily distractable during her day-time meals, has eyes for nothing but the nipple in the dark. It brings home the true power of motherhood -- baby splayed across my lap, her eyes shut, slowly and steadily gulping herself back to sleep. Everything has that blue, nighttime tint to it. Through the window, I can see stars, the moon, the silver shadow of clouds gliding in. It's pretty much the definition of peaceful. Plus, there's the promise of more sleep to come, assuming I do my job correctly.

Sometimes I think I might actually miss these times in a few months, when I hope and pray she'll be sleeping through the night.