Edith's groans and grunts rouse me from my short-lived slumber. Duty calls again. As I struggle to kick my feet free from the blanket that has somehow wrapped around my ankles like shackles, I push my aching, almost-forty-year-old body into an upright position.
Wait, wait, wait.... listing to the right... listing... listing....
With a groan, I straighten myself out and open my eyes to take stock of the situation. Ahhhh! I can't seeeee!!! I close my eyes and open them again for another go. A little better, although I'm not so sure my eyes are pointing in the same direction. I've clearly developed two lazy eyes. At least I can make out a blurry two of everything in the dim light.
I make my way over to where Edith is, hoping that I have gotten to her before she is fully awake. If I can do what needs to be done while she is still drowsy, I may be able to get her right back to sleep. The race is on.
I shut first one eye and then the other, trying to deduce which of the two babies I should pick up. They're both awfully blurry, but I'm pretty sure I know where the heads are. Switching eyes back and forth, I feel around until I have my hands under Edith's armpits and lift.
Nuts! I caught a whiff and she's poopy. No avoiding a change this time around. Still blinking and winking, I lay Edith down for what will hopefully be a quick change. I really need her to stay mostly asleep-- I'm waaay too tired to entertain a baby!
As I fumble with the zipper of her pajamas, it becomes clear to me-- my fingers have been replaced with sausages. Plump, buttery sausages. The zippers, snaps, and diaper tapes are virtually impossible to grasp and then slip repeatedly from my fingers. The clock is ticking-- she's becoming more alert!
Holding kicking baby feet in the clear with my sausages also proves to be a challenge. Hold still, baby. Hold still. Ah! Noooo-ooooooo!!! Her foot has plopped in the poop! I awkwardly use my wiener fingers to clean up the mess. At least, I think it's clean. One eye says it is, one eye says it isn't. I go with the eye that says it is.
In as quick a slow motion as I can manage, I struggle to re-diaper and dress the girl. She's awfully squirmy for an asleep baby, so I bend in close, blinking my eyes rapidly as I take a gander. Hi, Edith! What a nice smile you have. And is that a twinkle I see in your eye?
Yup. She's awake.
I start to nurse her and the praying begins. Please let her fall back asleep... please let her fall back asleep.... I really need her to....
Is that too much for this old lady to ask for?