Yesterday morning I got up around 4am to pack a lunch for Dave and see him off as he left for a weekend away. I got back in bed about 30 minutes later, and after 59 minutes of tossing/turning followed by 60 seconds of sleep, the baby woke up. Extra early. Just for mom. Great.
As I lay there using my mental powers to force my physical body out of bed, I did the thing that many parents probably do (right!? RIGHT!? I can’t be the only one!) in the wee hours of the night or the moments before dawn…I cursed.
I thought ‘what in the shizzing heck is wrong with you!? it’s 5:30 in the morning please go to sleep have mercy on me you little animal terrorist maniac baby!’
Then I put my game face on, stood up, and went to pick up my girl who had no idea about my profanity filled rant 30 seconds earlier and only heard me saying ‘good morning my little squee! wakey wakey! i love you sooooo much! do you know how to brew the tea nice and stiff? not a cup but a WHOLE pot? ok that’s today’s first lesson.’
She proceeded to prove to me what an ungrateful arsehole I am by acting like a better than average version of herself all day. She spent the morning walking from room to room with a travel neck pillow, laying on it in various positions. Then we went shopping with a friend, where she waved and greeted every.single.person. ‘Hi.’ ‘Buh-bye.’ Kawaiiiiiiii. Then a nap, then drawing with crayons, then dancing and laughing and dancing and laughing, warming the cockles of my heart. I put it all in perspective and thought of how lucky I am and how grand life is and how 5:22 technically is morning. And then I went to bed at 9:23pm to brace myself for another 5-something wake-up.
Today, I type this at 6:45am. Wide awake. While she still sleeps.