5:30am
It really is the little things that make all the difference. Several varied stages in my life have made this more and more obvious, but nothing comes close to the maginfication of the little things I am experiencing as a mom.
The current life/world shattering evolution of all that you thought was yours and the sudden realization that you wouldn't trade your once functioning clean iPhone for your current sticky fingered phone that never has the apps in the same place. Or that as much as you thought you did in your 24 allotted day, you now look back and see that twice as much can be done when it has to be.
In this whirlwind of newness, change, and chaos, every once in a while time slows down long enough to take a mental picture and these moments have the potential of keeping you motivated and laughing on the days when coffee doesn't even put a dent in your exhaustion.
I had one of those last night...
Molly is almost 3 months old. She is a crazy sleeper. Tosses, turns, wriggles and stretches until she finds herself comfortable enough to sleep. She also requires motion (if possible) dim lighting, and silence, with the exception of her ocean wave sound machine. Pretty high maintanence for a 3 month old, and yet we play because sleep matters more to us.
So we have moved her crib into our room in attempt to appease yet another of her requests: comfort. Her Moses basket just wasn't doing it for her anymore; she needed a mattress. Luckily Wes has been more than happy on his new twin bed for the past month, so the crib became "Baby Mo-Mo"'s. Well, like her brother, Molly has decided early that teeth would be a good thing to start working on. The drool has been joined by the crankiness and lack of sleep. Needless to say, she is up several times a night, and last night was no exception.
Fell asleep at 7pm
woke up at 7:35...
Fell asleep at 8:30pm
woke up at 10pm...
Fell asleep at 10:30 was up again at midnight, 1:30, 3:15, 5:30...etc.
Every time I hear her little "pick me up" cry, I sit up, roll out of bed and walk across the room to the crib. Lying on the floor next to her is Mac, our sweet ol' Bernese. She looks up at me as I step over her to get to Molly and watches me as I pick Molly up. Then after I set Molly down, Mac looks at me again as if to say "good job Mama, I'll watch her while you get some sleep." Every other hour or so, Molly cries and Mac does the same thing.
At around 5:30am, I was rocking Molly and felt myself slowly drifting to sleep. Right as I'm about to nod off, Mac scoots over and puts her head on my foot. This wakes me up and I realize Molly is asleep and I can plop back into bed. Mac's eyes are alert and soft at the same time. She didn't stop watching me for a second.
I put Molly back, and squat down to pet Mac and kiss her sweet nose.
"Thank, Nana." I whisper, "Good dog." And smile as I get back into bed. I think she smiled back.
It really is the little things.
....as I type this Westley is in his bed supposedly having his nap. He is alone in his room, on his bed and I hear giggles. So I stop writing to check in on what is so funny. He is laying there, hiccuping. Every hiccup gets him laughing (only making the hiccups worse.) I sneak in and plop on his bed and I asked him what was so funny. He pointed to his tummy and laughed some more. Another moment...
The current life/world shattering evolution of all that you thought was yours and the sudden realization that you wouldn't trade your once functioning clean iPhone for your current sticky fingered phone that never has the apps in the same place. Or that as much as you thought you did in your 24 allotted day, you now look back and see that twice as much can be done when it has to be.
In this whirlwind of newness, change, and chaos, every once in a while time slows down long enough to take a mental picture and these moments have the potential of keeping you motivated and laughing on the days when coffee doesn't even put a dent in your exhaustion.
I had one of those last night...
Molly is almost 3 months old. She is a crazy sleeper. Tosses, turns, wriggles and stretches until she finds herself comfortable enough to sleep. She also requires motion (if possible) dim lighting, and silence, with the exception of her ocean wave sound machine. Pretty high maintanence for a 3 month old, and yet we play because sleep matters more to us.
So we have moved her crib into our room in attempt to appease yet another of her requests: comfort. Her Moses basket just wasn't doing it for her anymore; she needed a mattress. Luckily Wes has been more than happy on his new twin bed for the past month, so the crib became "Baby Mo-Mo"'s. Well, like her brother, Molly has decided early that teeth would be a good thing to start working on. The drool has been joined by the crankiness and lack of sleep. Needless to say, she is up several times a night, and last night was no exception.
Fell asleep at 7pm
woke up at 7:35...
Fell asleep at 8:30pm
woke up at 10pm...
Fell asleep at 10:30 was up again at midnight, 1:30, 3:15, 5:30...etc.
Every time I hear her little "pick me up" cry, I sit up, roll out of bed and walk across the room to the crib. Lying on the floor next to her is Mac, our sweet ol' Bernese. She looks up at me as I step over her to get to Molly and watches me as I pick Molly up. Then after I set Molly down, Mac looks at me again as if to say "good job Mama, I'll watch her while you get some sleep." Every other hour or so, Molly cries and Mac does the same thing.
At around 5:30am, I was rocking Molly and felt myself slowly drifting to sleep. Right as I'm about to nod off, Mac scoots over and puts her head on my foot. This wakes me up and I realize Molly is asleep and I can plop back into bed. Mac's eyes are alert and soft at the same time. She didn't stop watching me for a second.
I put Molly back, and squat down to pet Mac and kiss her sweet nose.
"Thank, Nana." I whisper, "Good dog." And smile as I get back into bed. I think she smiled back.
It really is the little things.
....as I type this Westley is in his bed supposedly having his nap. He is alone in his room, on his bed and I hear giggles. So I stop writing to check in on what is so funny. He is laying there, hiccuping. Every hiccup gets him laughing (only making the hiccups worse.) I sneak in and plop on his bed and I asked him what was so funny. He pointed to his tummy and laughed some more. Another moment...
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