Last night, for the third time in four days, my little one had a hard time sleeping through the night. She’s only ten months old, so she still holds many of her own mysteries.
From around midnight she will half wake up and cry just loud enough to wake my wife and I. We’ll fight our way to consciousness. And that will be the point where our little girl falls back asleep. Then it is up to us to sleep.
An hour later, this repeats. And repeats, and repeats until our girl finally wakes up long enough to be fed.
Today’s work was long. Productive and busy, just the way I tend to like them, but long. I’ll have just enough time to stop off home and put down my work things before heading over to my children’s daycare.
I’ll be tired and worn out. My head will have the slight beginnings of a headache, and I’ll be hungry. As I walk into the daycare, I’ll be wishing for an extra hour just to rest. Or think. Or just sit.
And then I’ll walk into their room.
My children will see me. Maybe my son will be first and he’ll call me over to watch him play. Or my daughter will spot me first and squeal her joy and crawl over.
I’ll hold them and for that moment all the aches and stresses of the day will wash away. My desire for rest will change in focus. It will be less about wanting time for me, but for having more energy for them.
The moment will last as long as it lasts. We’ll get ready and go home. My wife and I will work together to keep them happy and get them fed. There will be great moments and hard moments.
And the joy I got from seeing them will stay with me. It will keep me light. That feeling.
It’s what makes the day.
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