morning blues

I've got the morning blues. It's all because my baby's growing up too fast and I miss our old morning routine. It's hard to believe that at almost ten months (in a week), Bridget's already changed a habit that I'd grown to love.

Up until a few weeks ago, I always knew when Bridget was ready to get out of bed in the mornings. It wasn't when she woke up crying; from experience, I knew that crying meant she wasn't ready to get up yet. By the time I got out of bed, slipped into some clothes, and put in my contacts, Bridget would have fallen back into a deep sleep--if she ever fully woke up at all. It was anywhere from half an hour to an hour after the crying that she'd wake up ready to face the day. And the sounds coming through the monitor let me know: "Da da da da da. Na na na. Ah woah we woah. Da da da." Yep. She'd wake up and start talking to herself.

Bridget would talk to herself for twenty minutes or more waiting for me to come and get her. She'd play with her hands, move all over in her crib (something she doesn't really do when she's sleeping), and then look up at me with a big smile when I came into the room. I'd sing her my version of "Good Morning" while I changed her diaper and dressed her, and then we'd go get her breakfast. It was listening to her talk to herself that I loved the most, and it's that part that I'm missing now. Now, I have to listen for a different sort of breathing and an occasional whisper, for the movement in the crib that tells me she's moving (and might try to pull the cord for the humidifier out of the wall again if we forgot to move her crib). It happened gradually; there were a few mornings when we were struggling with a bad cold that made it hard for her to breathe on top of teething, and on those mornings I'd hold her the last few hours of the night while she slept. But now that she's sleeping the night again, the morning chit-chats with herself are gone.

The missing chatter in the morning just makes me realize that my baby is growing up. I already mentioned that she's picking up on the meaning of language, and I think this might be a sign that she's already learning that speaking is typically a social act--people speak to each other more than to themselves (although I have been known to speak to myself frequently, especially when my husband's glued to the television and apparently unaware of my presence). She still talks when she's playing, so I've got that to cherish for a while yet. The morning talks, though, seem to be a thing of the past. Sigh.