I couldn’t go back to sleep after our early morning nursing session. But Hannah? Oh no, she had no problem. She snuggled into me and slipped into a deeper, satisfied sleep. I kissed her forehead. Brushed aside her strawberry strands. That sleeping baby … never want to forget …
I went to lay back down. Just to give it a try. I knew my brain was already awake. And despite only the five hours, my body wasn’t feeling the need for more sleep. I was just awake. Ready. Wanting to get a jump on the day’s workload. I looked forward to it. That high of throwing yourself into hard work so you can admire the accomplishment.
The house was quiet. Deep breathing over the monitors.
Thank you, Lord. You bless me so. … Beyond words.
The vacuuming. The straightening. A few things here and there. Then I heard her squirm and moan. Odd. She was sleeping so soundly. “Do you need to go potty?” I whispered over her golden locks. A weary, clumsy toddler crawled from her bed. It’s in those moments that I am reminded of how little she is. Even though she’s running her world.
She woke up during her wait. The feet started to swing. A smile crept across her dimpled face. I knew she was up. But I gave her the opportunity to lay back down a bit. That lasted for twenty more minutes of straightening and cleaning. Then two blue eyes peeped out of her doorway. “You can come out.” I answered her eyes.
She watched me divide out the laundry. Putting aside the things that have grown too small. One shirt here, some pants there. And then she broke in, “Mommy, will you play with me?”
“I’ve got to get this work done, just a minute and then I’ll play.” Came the automatic response.
Silence. More folding.
“Mommy, will you get down the princess game? Mommy. Will you play with me?”
“I’m almost done with this stack.”
Her excitement grew as the stack neared it’s finish. A small celebration radiated through her little body at the last item’s folding. And off she darted for the playroom, ushering me in.
Down came the princess game. She scooted in beside me. There was so much other open floor to play on.
I returned to my “to hang up” pile.
“Mommy, will you play with me?”
Ok, God. I hear you. Priorities. She needs me.
I set aside the laundry.
“Yes, baby. I’ll play.”
Her quirky little personality. Her cackling laugh. Her little dimples. Her wild blond hair. Her ticklish squirming. Her concrete definitions. I drank it all in for over a half hour of early morning play.
I cherished it. I cherish it still. Such a rare gift sometimes. Just sitting with her and absorbing her world.
Thank you, Lord, for waking me up this morning.
…And waking her.
– Love her so.
