and then - without the courtesy of an eye rub or a yawn, she's 15lbs of red-eyed screaming, kicking, overly-tired sadness.
And I am prone to taking that personally which is about the most stupid thing a parent could do, isn't it? Unfortunately, issues of sleep don't inspire rationality on the part of, well, anyone. There's a reason one of our favorite forms of accepted torture is leaving the lights on and keeping people awake. Eventually it is physically painful.
I'm not going to complain today, though. That's not why I'm writing today. I'm writing today because I noticed something when that screaming ball of tired took the paci and fell asleep. And it was amazing.
She got lighter. Softer and snuglier, I expected. I did not expect this feeling of lightness - the full trust and faith she has in me - and how her whole body just. . . releases. I can't help but feel as though there's a metaphor for faith in all of this, but today's not the day I'm going to make it. Today I'm just going to feel her lightness and recognize that if I had an easy sleeper she'd be in the crib and not in my arms and all of this would have escaped me.
No comments:
Post a Comment