How I deal with a crying child at 4:30am

There ain’t no easy way no there ain’t no easy way out

It was just after 4:30am when baby Vada started her little sobs. This time I woke up, perhaps all the more after hearing my wife’s vocalised frustration. It was apparent that she had been stirring almost hourly throughout the night, and also that I had of course been sleeping soundly through most of the ruckus. I have been known to do that, from time to time.

It was definitely my turn to get up, to calm the baby.

I jumped out of bed and prepped a bottle. I made myself a cup of tea and clipped her little carrier around my waist. I could hear pitter-patter sound of rain outside, so I took Vada out to see. She looked up at the little raindrops falling upon her head, half in wonder and half a slight bewilderment.

I checked Twitter on my phone and saw a photo posted that one of my workmates took. Great wide shot. The Brisbane wheel all wet, and moaning in the wind, I imagine.

I looked from my balcony to see if I could spot the city skyline in the distance, as I usually could, but nope it was shrouded in clouds. That’s okay. We needed the rain.

Anyway, Vada studied her surroundings for a while. She didn’t seem to have any conception of exactly what time it was, or any real reason to believe that it was unusual to be awake at that hour. I walked her around with her in her little carrier. She likes that. It seems to calm her. I thought about all the people in all the houses surrounding us, tucked away in their beds. The suburbs are a such strange living landscape. I wondered what dreams were spontaneously manifesting themselves inside all those brains upon pillows, what electrical chaos was playing tricks and havoc upon vast mindscapes of consciousness.

The rain grew heavier. I looked down. Baby Vada was fast asleep again.

Unfortunately of course I was wide awake.

Now, taking Vada out of her carrier and popping her back into her bed is a very delicate matter. Like dismantling a bomb would be, probably. The slightest misstep and she is awake again. But practice makes perfect and soon she was sleeping soundly once again. And I was again a separate entity, for a little while.

I quietly slipped back into bed beside Amy and our dog Misty and had a quick flip through an article about the Mueller Investigation in the latest Guardian Weekly. I didn’t know if I would be able to get to sleep again. But in the end, as it happens, I did. It was great.

I guess the moral of today’s story is that almost every moment can be turned into an opportunity for reflection and learning, even at 4:30am in the rain with a crying child.

Stay safe out there.