"keka noscht"

Okay, so it's supposed to be "leka noscht" - good night. But when it's said with a very little boy high nasal voice, well it does things to you. IT is SUPER sweet! and at the same time, there is an element of sadness in it. He has never slept in a room alone. There were at least 15 other beds in his orphanage room. So, if it's too dark or he can't tell your still with him, well, it'd probably be better to be having the worst nightmare you've ever had. And, of course, we have these great floors, that creak at every little twitch. But back to the boy...

So, if either of us get up non-quietly-enough, there are two possibilities: 1) he follows us in about 90 seconds, looking soooooo pitiful, or 2) he makes this low but truly horrible moan that grows into a cry (see previous post). As Barry lay with him tonight, he rolled until his forehead was nestled into the curve of Barry's nose. And he fell asleep there.

Until us, he has likely never slept with another person in his bed - someone to keep him safe, someone to help him sleep more deeply and restfully, someone to just plain snuggle him, hold his little hand, cover his little foot that so often sticks out from under the covers, stroke his hair, coo to him, kiss him on the forehead after he has fallen asleep.

Little wonder he and his little friends are neurologically delayed - esp. compared to kids who get the above attention. Yipes!