Rockabye

Tonight I was at my wits' end. Amy was at class (and beyond), and I had all three young'uns, and Madeleine was going to pieces of Amy's absence, of which she became acutely aware at bedtime.

So I lay down with all three of them, with the lights out, and as Madeleine screamed to the point of nearly gagging, the boys were pressing me to tell them a story. I told them we couldn't have any stories until Madeleine stopped screaming, because I had a very fuzzy impression that any speech taking place was perhaps causing her to continue screaming. And of course, all we needed was a 30-second hiatus from the hysteria, and Daniel pointed out that Madeleine had stopped screaming, which, of course, meant that I could now tell a story. And just as Daniel was sharing that observation, the screaming would take on new life.

So it was awful and more awful, and the boys seemed to be perpetuating the problem. Every now and then, when we'd have 20+ seconds of no-Madeleine-screaming and no-boys-asking-for stories (always at full volume), I'd listen to how wonderful it all sounded and felt, with the conviction that it couldn't last beyond another few seconds.

Then, as Madeleine continued screeching, Ian started to sing. Initially, I thought the singing would make her scream all the more. Then I noticed the song:

"Rock-a-bye Baby, on the tree top,

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock..."

Suddenly I recognized what he was doing, as he sang in his standard, very sweet voice. Neither softly nor loudly, but at a moderate volume - somehow a very solid, confident, purposeful sound.

And then it happened: By the end of his first rendition of it, Madeleine had stopped screaming. And now she was making sounds that resembled snoring.

Without pausing, Ian continued to a repeat of the song - altogether taking something like two minutes - and it turned out that Madeleine really was snoring, and she had fallen asleep, literally almost instantly from the time that Ian began the lullaby.

Needless to say, I was moved to tears. I said, "Oh Ian, you're amazing!" He said softly, "Thank you." I couldn't help myself: I reiterated, "Oh Ian, you're great!" Again, "Thank you."

Needless to say, Daniel was unhappy with all this recognition. He announced, "Amazing means 'better', so I'm better." But Ian didn't sink to competition or self-congratulations.

None of this was too surprising. Ian pointed out something like "Now I've done that two times," and I'm sure that I remember another time when he did exactly the same thing - started singing to Madeleine to calm her down, and put her right to sleep in the process. And the fact is that Ian and Madeleine have a beautiful relationship. He's always playing with her and doting on her in different ways, and his name was one of the first that she ever learned, and one that she uses all the time. She'll walk into the room and say, "Hi Eeeyah!", which we all love to hear, especially Ian. I'm often very moved at the things that he does, without any prompting, to accommodate his baby sister, and I find myself telling him he's a very good brother all the time.

And here's the best. I whispered to Ian that now that Madeleine was asleep, I could finally tell him and Daniel a story, and he declined; the story might wake up Madeleine.

(March 22, 2010)