Octavius,

Yours was the pregnancy of sleeplessness so it seems only fitting that my favorite time with you is in the middle of the night.

That’s when it’s quiet and still and it’s just you and me again.  Your eyes are wide and bright in the dim light of the lamp and you watch me watching you. Sometimes you eat, but mostly you stretch and sniff and grunt while I gaze and watch and wonder.

Other times you complain about how hard life is and we dance.  To the occasional dog bark and car passing, we shuffle and bounce until you know you’ve been heard and settle back down.  Sometimes you fall back asleep, downy head between my shoulder and cheek and I still trace the steps.

It feels like our secret, our treasure, these moonlit meetings.  I slack on sleep to soak you up. And it is so very good.  Sleep can come later.

All my love,
Mom