Last night I fell asleep about the same time as Liam. How do I know this? Probably because I fell asleep in bed while tucking Liam in.
So in truth, I probably fell asleep before Liam.
I wasn't feeling well, and I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before...there were a whole host of reasons. Basically I was prepared to sleep the whole night through with no disruptions and no reason to get up.
And then 5:00 came. Actually, 4:45 came, and along with that, a little 18 month old that suddenly decided his crib was the worst place to be in the whole wide world.
Looking back, I was probably a tiny bit bitter.
I made him cry. I went in and patted him. And then made him cry some more. I made myself coffee and rocked him a little. Then made him cry a little longer. FINALLY at 5:05 after 20 minutes that felt like FIVE HOURS I went in and scooped him up. Actually, "scooped" seems way too cheerful. It was more of a thrust, or a grab perhaps. Whatever it was, it wasn't as lovely and magical as "scooping". I stumbled out to the living room with my coffee in one had and him in the other. I sat down on the couch ready for the long-haul of the morning where I get nothing done and spend a lot of time trying to remember to breath.
But then there was a moment. There, in the dark with my coffee and my son we had a moment - which is rare with the youngest. He told me story after story that I didn't understand, and I nodded in agreement and asked questions that he pretended to answer. Watching his lips move, seeing him point in earnest, and figure out expressions that are meaningful - that was my gift today.
Today I am thankful for that hour I got to spend alone with my youngest son.
It was way better than trying to figure out how I was going to edit the 483 photos that are sitting on my computer waiting for some attention (not even an exaggeration - you can come look if you want (but then I might trick you into watching my kids while I take a nap.))
So in truth, I probably fell asleep before Liam.
I wasn't feeling well, and I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before...there were a whole host of reasons. Basically I was prepared to sleep the whole night through with no disruptions and no reason to get up.
And then 5:00 came. Actually, 4:45 came, and along with that, a little 18 month old that suddenly decided his crib was the worst place to be in the whole wide world.
Looking back, I was probably a tiny bit bitter.
I made him cry. I went in and patted him. And then made him cry some more. I made myself coffee and rocked him a little. Then made him cry a little longer. FINALLY at 5:05 after 20 minutes that felt like FIVE HOURS I went in and scooped him up. Actually, "scooped" seems way too cheerful. It was more of a thrust, or a grab perhaps. Whatever it was, it wasn't as lovely and magical as "scooping". I stumbled out to the living room with my coffee in one had and him in the other. I sat down on the couch ready for the long-haul of the morning where I get nothing done and spend a lot of time trying to remember to breath.
But then there was a moment. There, in the dark with my coffee and my son we had a moment - which is rare with the youngest. He told me story after story that I didn't understand, and I nodded in agreement and asked questions that he pretended to answer. Watching his lips move, seeing him point in earnest, and figure out expressions that are meaningful - that was my gift today.
Today I am thankful for that hour I got to spend alone with my youngest son.
It was way better than trying to figure out how I was going to edit the 483 photos that are sitting on my computer waiting for some attention (not even an exaggeration - you can come look if you want (but then I might trick you into watching my kids while I take a nap.))
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