I’m in a fog y’all. A fog of tired that is denser than dense. These sleep regressions are no joke and Emma is a wiz at them. But, as much as I want to complain and whine because oh heavens my kid just isn’t sleeping well at all, I’m just not gonna do it…. at least here…I’m complaining plenty to everyone around me, but I’ma take a different approach today.
Driving to meet a friend for breakfast this weekend I just kept praying that God would show me the joy in this situation. That I wouldn’t be so mopey and grumpy and blinded and that I could just soak in my kids being little now because ya know what everyone says…”it goes so fast”…and blahdeblahblah.
I’m not sure if I’m able to see the joy in this stage yet because…SLEEP, but I’m going to try and be grateful. That she is teeny and growing. That she still is swaddled and looks like a glowworm. That she still makes sucking noises with her mouth even when theres no paci there. That she still can’t do things like roll over and has no teeth in her gummy grin. That she will still sleep in a stroller sometimes and let’s me go through the store without answer 1,569 questions.
It’s true that when you have a new baby your oldest child grows 15 years overnight. It’s also true that no child is the same because I seriously feel like I am a first time parent with this child, everything I thought I knew…PSHHTTT YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME I AM EMMA HEAR ME ROAR.
The older ones, they look so huge, they seem so grown, they are all sorts of independent and non-babylike. I delight in my toddler and every funny thing he says and does, but he’s just not my baby anymore. He’s a wee little lad who doesn’t need me in the middle of the night 99% of the time…she still does, and for that I’m just a tiny bit thankful…a tiny bit…zzzzzzzzZzzzzzz.
These nights, though long and lonely and tiring, are fleeting, and soon she won’t need me (phew) and will sleep soundly (please Jesus) without my help what so ever. And by that point I’ll probably just go back to creeping in and watching her sleep trying to suck in as much of her littleness as possible because everyday it just keeps slipping away one fat roll at a time.
So if you run into me out there in the world and I look all sorts of tired and eye baggy…just smile at me…tell me it will pass and it’s a phase (I know this, but I need to hear it 100 times a day to keep going) and don’t judge me for the constant drip of coffee into my veins.
Happy Monday world.