FYI… The people who tell you that once the baby is born you’ll never sleep again? They’re right. I’m totally cool with it, too.
Except at 1:30am.
When G is snoring.
And I am leaking breast milk all over a baby who just wants to play.
His belly is full from the other booby, and his diaper is clean and dry. He’s been asleep 3 hours already. He wants to party.
I want to sleep.
So I bitch as I put on pajamas and take him into the other room (don’t want to wake G, just make sure he knows I’m up). I half slam drawers and complain about being tired.
Then I look at the 10 pound weight in my arms and I see the most beautiful face smiling up at me. Then I realize this perfect little man, the one I’ve worked and waited for just wants to be with me. He just loves me so much that he wants cuddles and kisses before going back to sleep. I feel properly embarrassed for being so childish over my sleep, and take him to the couch to play.
He looks up at me with his big blue eyes, sighs… and blows out his diaper.
Guess who’s now yawning and making fluttery sleepy eyes…
Guess who still wouldn’t trade this night for 12 straight hours of sleep…