Still my baby at bedtime

 I am elated to have the opportunity to share my friend CDG with you this week on Small Moments Mondays.  She blogs over at Move Over Mary Poppins and she is simply magical and beyond lovely.

There’s a fluidity and a grace about her writing.  Her stories just flow; I rise and fall with them and am left wanting so much more.  I’ve been sitting here, trying to find the perfect words to describe her, but my words are failing me.  How do I tell you that she is ethereal, yet grounded, fanciful, yet sensible?  She is a lovely combination of qualities, each contributing to her uniqueness. 

The more I learn about her, the more I want to know.  And with each post, I admire her more. 

And when I count my blessings?  She is amongst them.

Thank you, CDG…thank you for gracing my blog with your beautiful words.  Thank you for trusting me with your story.  Much love to you.

Still My Baby At Bedtime — by CDG

My son, Felix, and I are lying in his dark room, noses pressed together, the white noise machine buzzing quietly to cover the swoosh and rattle of traffic outside. We are counting the songs I will sing to him before I tuck him in and say goodnight.

 “One… two… fwee…” he says to me, blowing the scent of bubble gum toothpaste and toddler breath into my nose, and holding up three fingers in the shadows.

I cannot bear to correct his lisp.

 “Two. One, two,” I reply, tapping our fingertips together.


 “Which two songs should I sing, lovey?” We could go around all night negotiating the number of stories and songs.

Shellabye an’ Hush L’il Baby.

Shellabye... my heart swells up. He means “All the Pretty Little Horses,” as sung by the lovely Laurie Berkner, but when he was smaller and less verbal, somehow the hushabye became shellabye. Much like the little lisp, I am loathe to correct him.

So much of this baby sweetness will disappear soon.

He gathers up his Beek, the blue velvet fleece blanket who is his companion, and curls up like a prawn against me. Like he did when I was nursing him, his fingers play with the velvet fleece of my pink robe as I sing, and I am reminded why he loves Beek. His fingers remember the hours of rocking and nursing. He touches his mouth to the blanket for comfort, the shape of his lips and the peeking tip of his tongue reminiscent of a nursing infant. He still associates the texture of his beloved blanket with nourishment. His heart knows how much love there is here, curled up with his Mama.

I let the last note hover in silence.

“Hush L’il Baby, Mama,” he reminds me. For all that he is my baby, he is weeks from his third birthday, and quite capable of reminding me of my bedtime obligations.

He sings this one along with me. He knows most of the words, and when he doesn’t, he uses mockingbird as a default lyric. I sing slowly, over pronouncing the words for him, striking the pitches a cleanly as I can, lying down with his head tucked under my chin, hoping that along with the love and comfort, he is taking away from this some of my musical gifts.

We finish the song together, and he rolls gleefully over, stretching out for the last part of bedtime. I shake Beek out to cool it off. He always searches out the cool side of the blanket the way I seek the cool spot on the pillow case. I lay it down over his pillow; this way, they aren’t separated during the night.

He presents me with his bed friends for goodnight kisses, before snuggling down for his own kiss.

“Goodnight, Giraffe.”

“Goodnight, Bear.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Hello Kitty.”

“Goodnight, Domokun,.”

“Goodnight, Pug Dog.”

“Goodnight, Piglet.”

“Goodnight, Boy.” Here I kiss him, he kisses me, and then a together kiss, a kiss on the lips.

I draw the comforter up over him, he wiggles in a little further.

“Goodnight, Baby. I love you. Sleep Tight. Sweet dreams. I will see you in the morning.”

In my last glimpse of him as I close the door, his fingers play with the velvet fleece, his mouth moves against the fabric like a newborn at the breast.

He’s still my baby for one more bedtime.

To see a handful of her amazing talent, read Adjusting the Phrasing, She, and, to see just one example of why she is simply perfect for Small Moments Mondays, don’t miss Weekend Conversations

Please click over and visit Move Over Mary Poppins.  Just think how amazing it will be to be able to say, “I knew her when…”  Because?  With talent like this?  She’s headed for great things.


  1. 2old2tap

    Just. Beautiful.
    What a wonderful bedtime routine. This made me smile and my eyes well up all at the same time.

  2. Alexandra174

    You do a marvelous job yourself, with the introduction to your guest posts.

    This was so very sweet, and a pleasure to read. I think all mothers do this "pre-mourning" for the days they know will slip through their fingers like sand.

    As the mother of teens, I can tell you, it goes much more quickly than people warn you.

    I truly loved the sweetness of this.

  3. Kmama

    What a sweet, sweet post. My own baby, is just weeks away from his third birthday, so this has touched me deeply.

  4. Marian

    Love this, CDG. Love, love. Love you.

  5. Cheryl @ Mommypants

    Ah, sweetness..

  6. Oh, so so lovely…

    I sang to Child A till he was eleven or so. Maybe almost twelve. It was just how we said goodnight. That I'd go tuck him in and sing him a brief song.

    And then…one day…he just didn't announce that it was beditme. And by the time I noticed, he had already tucked himself in.

    And in the turn of one day, he was too big for songs at bedtime any more.

    But I still remember all the songs we used to sing.

  7. ksluiter

    This made me cry at work. Maybe because I am fragile right now. Maybe because bedtime is so very special to me with my little guy. Maybe because he needs lovlies by his nose just like when he was an infant. Or maybe it is just because I miss him so during the day. I don't know. But this post was both universal and oh so specific.

    and lovely.

  8. KLZ

    Oh, God. It's so bittersweet to watch them grow up.

  9. Natalie

    CDG…you know how much I love you and your writing….this one actually brought me to tears – happy ones :)

  10. CDG

    Thank you, Natalie, for such a sweet and generous introduction! It was a genuine pleasure to write for you.

    And thanks so much, everyone, for the lovely comments!

  11. Alli_n_Son

    This really touches me. We just moved my 2.5 year old to his toddler bed and I was heartbroken at first. But now we have this new and magical bedtime routine where I crawl in bed and we talk and snuggle. It's amazing. In these few minutes, he's my baby again.

  12. Roxane

    This is now at the top of my favorite posts EVER list. I am so glad to know you and so glad I get to read your writing. I cannot thank you enough for sharing your moments with us and in such a striking, heartfelt manner. You. Are. Amazing.

    PS- excuse me. how the hell am I supposed to follow this?!?! Nichole! I don't think we thought this date through very well… I guess I'll live. I could try until I was blue in the face and NEVER EVER write anything as beautiful, eloquent and touching as this was. And yes, Nichole. She is destined for great things. We are in complete agreement on that one :)

  13. Nicole Q

    so good.
    you are so good.

  14. Cate

    CDG – That was true loveliness. I didn't even realize I was tearing up until I finished reading and my eyes were wet.
    Oh, how those moments stay in our hearts. So precious, so familiar, and yet now? with my first tiny baby almost as tall as me – so far away. God is kind to us – allowing us to relive those priceless bedtimes through beautiful writing like yours.

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