Last night, I wanted nothing more than to lay my extraordinarily heavy head on my pillow, and to drift off to dreamland. Unfortunately, my teething 13-month-old had other plans.
So, we sat awake together until well after 4 am.
Literally moments after little A finally fell asleep, I heard big A rustling through the sock drawer. It was already time for work.
I put some coffee on to brew, some for my mug and some for big A’s thermos, and began assembling his lunch. The baby was awake by the time I saw him off to work, so I was extra thankful for the hot cup in my hand.
Within an hour though, little A was cranky enough for me to try to lay down in bed and nurse him to sleep. And it was a success! Desperate to stick to our schedule in the hopes that he’d sleep tonight, I forced myself and little man up at 9:30. It was time for another cup of coffee, as I counted down the hours until nap time.
And then nap time rolled around. And my exhausted little boy went down without a fight.
As I tip-toed out of the bedroom, I breathed a sigh of relief when he stayed asleep. Finally. I could finally get some sleep.
I got myself cozy on the couch, and decided to wind down by catching up on a little Grey’s Anatomy (HUGE fan!). But, during the episode, I started thinking about how I really wanted to try a new recipe I’d been eyeing. Then I started wondering how long it’d been since I’d written a blog post. Nearly a week. I thought to myself.
I glanced at the clock, excited in knowing that little A would probably sleep for another hour or more. And I did what any mom, desperate for a little alone time, would do.
I put another pot of coffee on to brew.
Until next time,