The Middle Man

It’s 2.54am — children number 1 and 3 have woken up and finally fell asleep. They both have sleep issues, no1 age 7 wakes every night looking for us, number 3 aged 1 is teething. In the middle of their nocturnal caper which is consisting of in and out of rooms and musical beds the inevitable happened, my middle child woke up. His little cries ring out from his upstairs room. I rush up calling out that I’m on my way so he knows I’m coming. It’s all he requires usually to stop his tears — he likes to know what’s happening. I go in and he’s just woken up from being too warm. A few hugs and soothing words and he’s ready to go back into his cot. He’s 2 and yet he can understand things my 7 year old can’t. Like it’s 2 in the morning and everyone’s supposed to be asleep. He accepts this is a crazy time for him to be awake — like I said he just gets it.

He tells me his rooms too dark and he’s sick of all his stuffed animals but he wants to keep his lucky Granda cushion (made by my mother from my late fathers old shirt — we all have one) He doesn’t remember his Granda as he died suddenly before my sons 1st birthday. But he knows he’s supposed to love his cushion — and so he does. He’s that type of child, he likes to have all the information and he knows what to do with it.

He is the sunshine of the house with his blonde hair and huge blue eyes. He never stops talking or asking questions. His chirpy baby voice is in the background all day long, laughing, chatting, singing... He has an amazing sense of humor for a 2 year old but at times he has the grumpy no-nonsense attitude of a man in his 60s. He has a fierce sense of right and wrong and he is loyal to the core.

I tuck him back in and promise him the light flickering on his baby monitor is me listening to him from my bed. I look at him all snuggled into his blankets and raggedy stuffed giraffe ready to put himself back to sleep, my heart swells with so much love for him it’s hard to put into words. When I found out I was pregnant on my 3rd child, I worried so much about him being swept along in the middle and not getting to have his toddler years all to himself like his big brother did. I needn’t have put myself through that. If ever there was a child who could never be overlooked or swept along its him. He makes his presence felt in his sunny little way and everyone he meets loves him. I love everything about him from his ridiculously long golden lashes to the birthmark on his bum. He told me as I was just about to leave the room, that I’m his best friend in the whole wide world ever, and in that moment I truthfully could say to myself where else in the world would I want to be at 3am.