Your mind starts to wander when you're trying not to fall asleep in her bed (God forbid we start THAT habit). I stare at her a bit (stalker that I am). I remember how long I waited for her; how much I wanted her. It's hard to remember what life was like before her. It's hard to believe that her little hand was at one time even smaller. More dimpled. Hard to believe I used to stare at her through the crib railings as she clutched my pinky and I just HAD to make sure she was still breathing. AGAIN. I have spent almost every night of her life having to coax her back to sleep on some level. Not all of them 'mother-of-the-year' moments. At every stage I told myself remember this. She will never be this way again (that may be me trying to hold on to a shard of my sanity...or refrain from going on a drinking binge). But you don't catch all of it. Before you know it she's speaking in complete sentences and copying your every mannerism and telling you she loves you too mom. Maybe this blog will help with my memory.
How's that saying go? Babies don't keep? Yeah. That.
That makes shuffling back to my own bed sticky and smelling like a combination of orange flavored ibuprofen and Vicks not such a bad thing after all. Not sure how The Hubs feels about it but he can suck it. He didn't even budge from the nice warm bed. Ass.
In case none of you are ever up at that ungodly hour here is what it looks likes:
It's pretty great isn't it?