"Everyone told me how little sleep I would get, but they never mentioned
how much I wouldn't mind the lost hours of slumber. They never told me
that seconds with him would be so delicious I'd gobble them all up and
still not be full. Even when he is crying and fussy, which he almost
never is, I love being with him. At night I pull his cradle as close to
the bed as I can and fall asleep with my hand caressing his chubby
little face. If I weren't so afraid of suffocating him he'd sleep next
to me. "
Oh the things one will write when in a hormone induced postpartum fog. Five years later the hormones are gone and I'm left with the reality that there are days when gobbling him up sounds like the best plan of all. The cute cooing blob of baby goo has been replaced with an opinionated and strong willed four-year-old who stomps his foot while demanding ice cream for breakfast.
I don't love being a parent as much as I thought I would, but I love him. I love him more than I ever thought I was capable of loving another human. So, I agree to play another game of memory or build a rocket out of play doh for the 100th time even though I'd rather be watching Grey's or writing a blog post.
Monday, September 15, 2014
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2 comments:
As honest and endearing as I've ever heard it put. There are so many times I wish I'd done it different. A flash of the past will steal in the backdoors of my mind and I'll see the whole scenario and want to reach out and tell that younger me to stop and do that again, differently. You are a breathe of fresh air.
Thank you! I'm sure I'll want a thousand take backs.
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