I Don't Mind

I don’t mind.

I don’t mind that you woke up for the fourth, fifth, sixth time tonight for no obvious reason. I don’t mind that it’s 4:35am.

I don’t mind that when I come into your room that you’re awake. Not wide awake, but definitely more awake than, you know, asleep.

I don’t mind bringing you downstairs to do the one thing that has always soothed you even in the deepest throes of colic: dancing to music. I picked Alkaline Trio this time.

I don’t mind having to turn off the computer screen and the nightlight while we dance because if I don’t you’ll stare at them and stay awake.

I don’t mind having to constantly readjust so that one hand is always holding your head as we dance. I know it helps you fall asleep and more importantly, I know you like it.

I don’t mind that you fight me again with increasingly quieter squawks. I know you want to experience the world around you instead of sleeping, and I hope you retain that curiosity as you get older.

I don’t mind that my feet are getting cold pacing the floor as you resist the sleep you so desperately need. I don’t mind that my arms ache from holding and swaying you.

I definitely don’t mind the way your body and head slowly get heavier against me as you drift off to sleep. One day I’ll remember this moment and I’ll miss it when you are grown. I don’t know what that feels like from experience, but the seed of that future loss was sown the day you were born and I am constantly aware of its presence. Sleep seems so important now, but I know it won’t some day.

I don’t mind walking you back upstairs and laying you down, taking extra, excruciating care to make sure I don’t wake you up.

Honestly I do mind a little bit when your eyes immediately snap open and you start to scream again the second you hit the bed.

But it's okay. Alkaline Trio has a lot of songs.