Or perhaps I could make yet another list of all the things I need to accomplish this week.
At 3:37 in the morning, my mind is surprisingly clear and alert and I should be using this time to contemplate, or postulate or any other big word that implies productivity.
But I'd rather be doing what I'm doing.
At 3:37 am, I gently rock you back and forth and whisper into your tiny little ear "shhhhh, good boy...."
The lullaby CD playing provides a perfect backdrop for our early morning exchange. Light, airy melodies bounce to and fro as you finish your bottle and fall into a satiated slumber. Back and forth, back and forth we rock as I hum the now-familiar tunes:
"Baby love of mine, baby love of mine, I love you all time...."
At 3:37 am, while the whole world seems to be asleep, it's just you and me. I cherish this time the way a child cherishes the fleeting hours of a summer's day...knowing full well it won't last forever. This is special time. This is you and me time.
"Then we'll ride on a rocking horse...he'll jump over the moon of course..."
Somehow my own problems seem so small, so insignificant, at 3:37 am. As I watch you sleeping in my arms, I'm reminded of all the good things in life. I marvel at the fact that you know not the emotions of hate or jealousy or greed. Your heart has yet to experience the pain of sorrow or the thrill of true love... all these things will come in time.
But for now, the soothing sounds of the nursery tunes play, and the steady drumming of your in and out breaths dance upon my chest. There's no place I'd rather be and nothing I'd rather do...
...at 3:37 am.