Gerald is awoken by the Fisher-Price baby monitor as it crackles to life with second-hand crying noises. He blinks and rubs his eyes, tiredly glancing at the bedside digital clock glowing red in the darkness. It's almost three in the morning.
He takes a deep breath and sits up, slapping his face a bit before he works up the courage to pull back the covers and let the colder air of the room hit his body. Sheila is, thankfully, still fast asleep next to him as he gets out of bed, but he moves slowly and tries his best not to disturb her. After all, she deserves the sleep more than he does, especially given she squeezed a whole-ass baby out of her lady bits just a week ago.
Quietly, he makes his way down the hall to Kyle's bedroom, the floorboards creaking as he walks. Inside he finds his newborn son crying up a storm. His little face is contorted with an expression of intense discomfort, limbs flailing tiredly inside his crib.
"Hey buddy, what do you need?" Gerald asks as he cranes over the side of the crib next to him, voice hoarse from tiredness.
Kyle responds by crying some more, as expected. Gerald smirks to himself and stands upright again.
"Okay, let's see what's wrong," he says. He reaches inside the crib and carefully scoops him up, making sure to support his head like the nurses showed him.
When Kyle was born, Gerald was pleasantly surprised to find he'd taken after Sheila in terms of his hair, a darker but still fiery red, already with a full head of curls when he first came into the world. Even now, he can see bits of it peeking out from underneath his small knit cap.
As he holds his son, Gerald thinks he's never going to get over how freaking tiny he is. It feels like he weighs practically nothing in his arms. So small and fragile, but already showing signs of profound stubbornness.
He lays Kyle down on the dresser drawer they're using as a changing table on the other side of the room, with baby wipes and a trash can strategically placed within arm's reach. Unfastening his diaper, he discovers that yup, the kiddo made a stinky. He tries not to breathe as he changes him, but also takes his time and makes sure that he cleans all the nooks and crannies so Kyle doesn't get a diaper rash. He puts on a clean nappy and Kyle has already calmed down significantly, but he's still fidgeting.
"Alright, let's get you some food, too," Gerald says. He puts Kyle back in his crib briefly as he prepares a bottle, trying to keep Kyle from crying while he waits for the bottle warmer to do its thing by distracting him with a rattle.
Once it's ready, he picks Kyle up again and holds him in the crook of his arm as he gives him the bottle. Kyle latches on to the nipple and starts sucking away hungrily, making little cooing noises as he drinks.
Another weird parenting thing was that Gerald had no idea that babies had to be fed every three hours when they're this little. How crazy is that? Their stomachs are so tiny but they need so much nutrition in such a short period of time, so it makes sense. But still. Kinda wild.
Kyle makes it halfway through the bottle before his eyes start to droop again, but despite slowing down he manages to finish the whole thing. Gerald puts the bottle down and burps him, and afterwards Kyle's face has become completely peaceful, blinking slowly up at him, green eyes shining in the low light. Somehow, though, he's not asleep yet.
Gerald wracks his brain as for what to do next, eventually deciding he should probably try to rock him to sleep.
He keeps cradling Kyle gently as he starts to sway his upper body side to side, and lo-and-behold Kyle's eyes droop even more, but still don't close completely.
After a while, Gerald's tired brain finally offers him a memory of his own childhood as a solution.
His Hebrew isn't great, but he'll try his best. Clearing his throat gently, Gerald starts to sing.
Numi, numi yaldati
Numi, numi, nim
Numi, numi chemdati
Numi, numi, nim
Aba halach la'avoda -
Halach, halach Aba
Yashuv im tzeit halevana -
Yavi lach matana
He continues, rocking Kyle in his arms the whole time and watching his tiny, adorable face get sleepier and sleepier. He has to sing it an octave lower than his mom did from what he remembers, but he manages to get through it with only minor blips in pronunciation.
Eventually, Kyle's eyes close all the way shut, but Gerald keeps singing to finish the song just to be sure.
It's silent for a long moment. Kyle shows no signs of stirring, so Gerald finally moves to put him back in his crib.
When he turns around, though, he sees Sheila silently watching the two of them, leaning against the doorway with a small but loving smile on her face. Gerald startles and he feels himself blush with embarrassment.
"Sheila," he says. "Uh… How—how long have you been standing there?"
His wife doesn't respond but then he sees a tear fall down her cheek and his stomach drops with dread.
He rushes over to her as quickly as he can with their son still in his arms.
"Honey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asks.
Sheila only smiles and shakes her head.
"N-Nothing's wrong, it's just… Oh, Gerald—" she says, cutting herself off as she stifles a cry with a hand against her mouth.
"What? What is it?" He shifts Kyle's weight carefully to one arm and reaches out to gently wipe away her tears with his free hand.
"It's just— You're going to be such a good father," she says, sniffing and smiling wider through her tears.
Gerald blinks at her, exhaustion making him take a few seconds longer than usual to process what she said, but then when it clicks he sighs with relief that she's okay.
"I'll try my best, honey," he replies, returning a small smile and leaning in to give her a brief kiss. "And I know you're going to be a great mother."
"Thank you," she says, kissing him again and lingering a bit longer this time, until Gerald reluctantly pulls away.
"You should be in bed though, Sheila. You need your rest," Gerald says, pushing her gently back into the hallway.
Sheila sighs and rubs her eyes. "Yes, I know. It's… difficult for me to sleep right now," she admits. Gerald smiles fondly at her.
"You worry too much," Gerald says, an edge of teasing in his voice that he can't help. "Kyle will be fine, I promise. We're going to take good care of him, okay?"
Sheila nods. "Okay." She reaches out and squeezes his free hand. "Goodnight, honey. I love you."
"I love you too. I'll be there in a minute."
Sheila gives Kyle a kiss on his little forehead. "Sleep well, bubbie," she murmurs, before finally turning and walking back to the master bedroom.
Gerald lays Kyle back in his crib, who is thankfully still asleep, and Gerald watches him for a moment before he quietly walks out of the room.
When he gets back to bed Sheila's lying on her side, her breathing already slow and steady, so he wordlessly gets under the covers once again and scooches closer. He wraps an arm around her and kisses her on the shoulder before settling in, his chest pressed against her back. Sheila sighs, snuggling back against him, and he squeezes her in a hug before he lets himself relax.
Gerald falls asleep easily, thinking about how lucky he is to have such a wonderful wife and a beautiful healthy baby, excited about what the future holds for their little family.
oooooooooo
נומי נומי (Numi Numi)
author's note: I'm a gentile who grew up in a very WASP-y town, so most of what I know about Jewish culture I've had to learn about online.
A significant source of information for me was Dan Avidan, co-creator of the comedy band Ninja Sex Party and co-host of the let's-play channel Game Grumps. If you're unfamiliar with him, his dad is Israeli and immigrated to the U.S. in the 1980s, and he would sing Hebrew lullabies to Dan when he was little. Dan mentions Numi Numi in this video here.
oooooooooo