A postscript on Jada's middle-of-the-night waking earlier this week.
(Yes, it's such an infrequent event that it's been worthy of two
posts.) Amy woke up when I did and said she was worried. I told her
I'd take care of it. What I didn't realize at the time was that Amy
stayed up and waited while I was in Jada's room. (She eventually
fell back asleep before I got back into bed.)
When she told me this the next morning, I told her she didn't have to
do that, that if I was going to have to be up, there was no reason for
both of us to have to lose sleep. She said, "You don't understand;
I'm a mama – I was worried."
I love my daughter, even loved comforting her back to sleep the other
night. But if the roles were reversed, and Amy was the first one out
of the bed and I was still in bed and I knew that Amy was going to
take care of Jada, I would've fallen right back to sleep. But then,
I'm not a mama. Amy is.