One thing that can truly be said about my family is we love our sleep! Neither Sarah nor I are morning people by any stretch of the imagination and Joel took to sleeping through the night at just 8 weeks of age (my sincere apologies to parents out there still hoping their 1 year olds sleep through the night). He sometimes protests against his afternoon nap time (we call that taking a no-nap) but typically we’ll head upstairs around 8pm, brush teeth and read a few books and it’s off to bed. Even if it takes him a little while to actually fall asleep, generally speaking he’s down for the night.

So last week around 11pm or so Sarah and I were up watching TV and this wail comes echoing down the stairs. It’s not a “I’m in pain” wail or a “panic” wail, just a saddened “something’s not right up here” kind of cry. I scurried up the stairs to get to the bottom of the anomalous behavior. Cracking open Joel’s bedroom door I softly asked, “Is everything OK honey?”

“No!” came the reply. He was standing up in the corner of his crib, facing the door, visibly distraught.
“Ohh… what’s wrong?” I asked.
“Daddy will get Alfie!” he insisted.

Surveying the situation I could see that Alfie had fallen through the crib rails and was stranded on the floor. Additionally, Pooh Bear had somehow ended up discarded amongst the books and blankets on Joel’s “big boy bed” (we haven’t actually tried sleeping him in the toddler bed yet, but the day is undoubtedly soon in coming).

“Oh I’m sorry honey.” I offered sympathetically. I lifted him out of his crib and cradled him against me for just a minute, his red little cheeks still damp with his anxiety. “Can Joel lay down on his pillow and Daddy will get Alfie and Pooh bear?” I suggested.

“Yah.”

I laid him back down in the bed and scooped the pile of blankets back over him. Grabbing Alfie and Pooh, I returned his companions to his side. Joel tucked Pooh Bear under his arm and nestled down in to his pillow.

“I am all better.” he cooed.

As I shut the door behind me and crept back downstairs the thought came to me…

All better. Daddy made it all better. How wonderful and simple life was when all it took to make us feel better was the knowledge that someone was there who could always be called on to make everything right. What a profound and special gift my son has given me by letting me be that person for him… even more so because I know, unlike my young son, that this time will pass by us both so quickly.

I will not always get it right. There will be times when I’m impatient, absent, inattentive or just plain oblivious. But tonight, I’m content to have been able to make things all better, even if just this once.