The Pact.

Poor Mr T. He had a bad night last night. He was up at 3 am with only a little restless sleep from then. I think it was his teeth. He has all his teeth except his two bottom incisors which are inflamed red mounds in his gums. They look painful and I'm sure they are.

A Good Man was a good man and got up with his son in the night. He is always the one to get up. It's because we made a pact when T turned one. A Good Man has always wanted at least three children. When T was one, I announced that if he wanted me to consider having another baby, he had to take over night duties. That's it... I was just too tired... A Good Man did! He gets up to pat T back to sleep just about every night. He never complains. He gets up, stumbles through to T's room, pats his back a couple of times and then stumbles back to bed. When he gets back, I rub his shoulder briefly to say thank you before falling back into lovely sleep. Sometimes I even sleep through this ritual. 

Unfortunately, last night, patting didn't do it's magic and T just couldn't sleep. He didn't seem uncomfortable and didn't cry, but was wide awake and restless. A Good Man sat with him lovingly. I relieved him at 5am and lay with T in his bed. I have to admit that I loved it. T hugged me, he kissed me, whispered 'Mummmmmyyyy' into my ear, snuggled his warm little body into mine. I was reminded, once again, how precious all the little moments are... more precious than jewels and silver and, yes, even sleep!