Wednesday, January 26, 1977

"Sweet dreams, my little angel."

I lightly ran my hand down Michele's tiny back, then raised the crib rail into position. Bridget was still asleep, and I smiled at my good fortune. Quietly, I slipped out of the nursery and back into our bedroom.

Al snored quietly. Not wanting to wake him, I eased back into bed as carefully as I could. He murmured softly in his sleep and instinctively moved closer to me. Smiling, I rested my hand on his shoulder and settled in for the night, snuggling into his chest. I'd just started to drift off when piercing cries called me back to awareness.

Al stirred. "Who's crying?" he mumbled.

I put my finger to his lips. "I've got it, honey, go back to sleep." As he drifted off again, I slid out of bed.

Hurrying, before the crying twin could wake her sister, I rushed into the nursery. It was Bridget this time. I picked her up and paced the length of the room with her. "C'mon, sweetie, what's wrong? Will you go to sleep for Mommy, please?" She only cried all the louder. I checked her diaper, but it was dry. "You can't be hungry again already?" I wondered aloud. Well, it was worth a try.

I sat down in the rocking chair and prepared to nurse her. Bridget latched on hungrily. I smiled and stroked her hair as I rocked and fed her, enjoying the blessed silence. Unfortunately, it was short-lived as Michele woke and started wailing.

Please don't be hungry, I thought as I levered myself out of the rocking chair and crossed to her crib. I balanced Bridget in one arm and tried to soothe Michele with my free hand. It wasn't terribly effective.

"Hush, hush, now. You're going to wake your daddy."

"She already did," a bleary voice said from behind me. Yawning, Al came into the room.

"Al, love, go back to bed. You've got to be on the base at 0800 tomorrow."

He shook his head and gave me a kiss on the cheek as he bypassed me to pick up Michele. He tucked her against his shoulder and gently bounced on his toes as he started pacing with her.

"Al, you've got to get up early tomorrow."

"You mean later this morning," he chuckled. "Sit back down, Beth. That can't be comfortable for you." I complied, resuming my rocking pattern in hopes that she would fall asleep again. Meanwhile, Michele's crying continued at its loud pitch. "Aw, what's the matter, munchkin?" he crooned, patting her on the back.

I yawned loudly, so tired I was unable to stifle it, and Al turned to me, now trying to bounce Michele in his arms. "How many nights has this been going on?"

"I've lost count," I admitted around another yawn.

"You should have woken me up, Beth," he scolded. Cradling Michele's head in the palm of his hand, he kissed the top of her head. She hadn't settled down yet. "You should have woken me up," he repeated.

"I didn't want to disturb you."

Al shook his head. "And you don't need your rest?"

Bridget had eaten her fill, so I shifted her to my shoulder and began patting her on the back to burp her. "It's okay, honey, I would've woken you if I needed you."

He gave me a hard look, his feelings hurt by what I'd said about not needing him.

"I'm sorry, Al, that's not what I meant."

"I know," he relented. "You're bushed." He tried putting Michele on her back, supporting her on his forearms, and gently moved back and forth with her, cooing the whole time. She screamed louder, so he shifted her to a position cuddled against his chest. She finally quieted down

Bridget burped and spit up on my neck, missing the burping cloth entirely. I sighed as I shifted her to the my other shoulder so I could wipe it off. I closed my eyes momentarily and swayed. Al's hand on my elbow steadied me and I opened my eyes to see his concerned expression.

"Beth, you're exhausted, honey. The circles under your eyes are so dark people are going to think I punched you."

I laughed, but Al squeezed my elbow meaningfully. "Go to bed, baby. I've got it under control."

Michele picked that moment to start screeching again. A second later, Bridget joined in.

"No, you don't," I groaned.

Al bounced on his toes to soothe Michele. "They're going to cry no matter what. Let me take a turn tonight, honey. You should have all along."

I started to protest, but he was right. I was drained. "All right," I agreed. "Once Bridget falls asleep, I'll go to bed."

"Deal." He moved into a bouncing pace again, similar to Neil Armstrong's moon walk, and started singing in a low voice, "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

I glanced down at Bridget, who'd quieted down somewhat. I joined Al in the pacing, our paths crisscrossing as we made our way back and forth across the room. After a few more minutes of silence, I realized Bridget had fallen asleep. I settled her into her crib and turned to Al. Michele had stopped crying, but showed no signs of falling asleep anytime soon.

Al read the look on my face and shook his head. He paused in his singing to say, "A deal's a deal, Beth. Bridget's asleep…now it's your turn. Goodnight, hon." He bounced his way over to kiss me goodnight, and then resumed his lullaby, moving on to a new song, "Two and two are four, four and four are eight…"

I made my way back to our room, just able to hear the words as I laid down and closed my eyes. "Inchworm, inchworm, Measuring the marigold. Seems to me you'd stop and see, How beautiful they are…" However long it took him to get Michele to sleep I didn't know…I was out before he returned to bed.