A deep sleep has overtaken us. We are like logs, stacked against each other, dead to the world.
Then I hear it and slowly come to consciousness and poke my husband. "He's awake," I sleepily mutter, "and it's only 3 a.m. Oh well, soon the teeth will be through the gums and maybe we can get through the night."
In the spring of this year, Clemente came to live with us. His daddy was sent to Afghanistan and his mommy, our daughter, stationed previously in Iraq and Italy, was reassigned to a command school here in the United States.
Active career military families share the burden that war creates, and our grandson is part of this patriotic upheaval.
Retired and loving it, we had thought. Mornings spent slowly sipping our tea and coffee while perusing the newspaper. Nowhere to go and a choice of favorite things to do - gardening, a round of golf, a walk through the park or the mall and a leisurely lunch.
We did not realize a lifestyle change was awaiting us and that our senior retreat would need to be redesigned around the needs of a 1-year-old.
Baby formula and pureed foods, naps and bedtime became the all-important topics of the day. The infant department at Wal-Mart superseded the newest line of women's ready-to-wear at Macy's and Sears. And dirty diapers, a part of our very distant past, reawakened our senses and our quickness at dispatching of the evidence.
It is a sad situation, trying to keep home and family stationary in an Army-on-the-move world. But we have chosen to try our best to give Clemente some stability until things in the Middle East calm down and his mommy and daddy are out of rotation for a while.
Parenthood is proving once again to be a learned and loved vocation, albeit a hectic one. After raising five children successfully to adulthood, we are now wondering how we did it.
In those days, we were physically spent, emotionally drained and spiritually awakened (if we had the time). Somehow we managed to get through the sleepless nights and cranky days, and our marriage became stronger.
In the present, however, the spiritual has overtaken the physical and emotional. Hourly appeals are directed heavenward for strength, protection for all military personnel - and more frequent nap times.
The playpen - today's parents prefer the term "play yard" - has become our best friend. The square holding area littered with toys enables us to mop floors, fold laundry and jot a few words on the computer. Without it, disorder would reign supreme, and Nona and Poppy would be more than pooped.
The Disney Channel's Big Blue House with Bear and Tutter has replaced reality TV in our house. (My husband, Joe, has vowed to eventually set a trap for Tutter - that is, if he were a live mouse!) However, Clemente's enthusiastic squeals of delight while watching Bear and Tutter or Baby Einstein or Elmo have made us realize that a dose of light amusement gives our brains a chance to heal from the daily onslaught of traumatic events.
Of course, bedtime requires an extra special touch. Both my husband and I are required to participate in this tedious exercise, and my vocal cords are strained to the point of forming new nodules. Clemente does not require virtuosos to help him drift off to dreamland, just someone with a repertoire of old favorites such as Lazy River and Singin' in the Rain. He has no idea what rap is and hopefully the old standards will forever live in his heart.
Love rules our daily routine. Our strength is fortified by Clemente's innocent smiles and giant brown eyes.
Not unlike soldiers fulfilling the U.S. Army pledge to "complete the mission," we, joined by thousands like us, have pledged to go the distance until Johnny comes marching home.
