The sound of a snoring baby (and all that it brings)

Today I was babysitting my friend Katrina’s two beautiful daughters, aged 3 and 1. I’d forgotten what it’s like to hang out with a 1 year old. Doing so brought me back a couple of years, and inspired the following piece of writing about the moment that a baby naps, and motherhood in general.


The sound of a baby snoring ( and all that it brings)

Peaceful, restful relaxation.
Sinking into fulfilling stillness.
The moment in the day when I can ponder,
and count my blessings.
A glance at a scrumptious little person, with eyes closed,
and body motionless.
The satisfaction of seeing the fruits of my labour,
both literally and figuratively.

The thrill of being ‘me’.
Just me!
For a moment.
Nobody’s chef or maid,
or cleaner, or personal shopper,
or teacher or mentor,
or gentle encourager,
or harsh corrector.
Just me.
Just Katerina.
With one blank page and a lot of thoughts to write.
Thoughts about conversations and smiles, and cries and laughter.
Just me,
wearing a subtle smile,
tasting fulfilment.

But I soon see,
‘just me’
does not exist any more.
Just me includes
the corrector, the mentor,
the encourager.
Even the chef.
That’s who ‘me’ is now.

On my face, a different smile,
A realisation.
Some more pondering…
A second later the snoring stops.
She’s awake.