One of the last posts my sister made on her blog before letting it die was about the eye twitch she gets when stressed. I was pleased to read about it because it made me fell less unwell, knowing that it ran in my family.
My eye has been twitching for months now. But lately it's a little worse.
Eye twitch, thy name is Work.
Today my child woke at 5am after sleeping all night for the 5th or 6th night in a row (my strategy was to not worry about that 4am wakeup and just hope he would outgrow it and this seems to have worked, along with the fact that I think I slept through some serious fussing at 3 or 4am several nights in a row - sleep training or exhaustion - you make the call!). I nursed him in the Womb Chair That Causes Extreme Sleep in Adults and dozed for a while until it was time to wake Wes at 6. They got up and played and ate and woke me again at 8. I took him back to the Womb Chair That Can Induce Sleep in Insomniacs and Infants Alike and we dozed a bit more. But not nap-length. So I gave up and let him play and got myself dressed and kissed Wes goodbye. We played for a while until the eye rubbing started around 10. At 10:30 I took him back to the Womb Chair of Exhaustitude and he was OUT. For THREE hours. I read blogs. And message boards. And emails. I watched Frasier. And Will & Grace. And cooked food for his lunch and dinner. And then I started to MISS HIM.
When he woke up bright and shiny and grinning and hugging me so, so tight, my whole world melted into a pile of gooey baby love so gross it could not be viewed with the naked eye.
And then we went to the zoo and bought a year membership. And then we sat near the carousel and ate O's. And I held him and fed him and whispered to him that today was the last day of the last month that would be truly his and mine together. I got weepy as the wheezy carousel whizzed around and he stared, captivated. I teared up as we sat on the grass and I promised him that we could still come in the afternoons after work. He cuddled down into my arms and sighed, watching some boys play soccer nearby and nuzzling me. I nearly died of love.
It seemed momentous, reaching this last day of July, something we will never again have. But as I typed this, I realized that July will ALWAYS be our month. We will always have it from start to finish to share as a mommy baby unit. I knew that I had a kickass job with awesome vacations, but I somehow failed to realize it will still allow me a yearly guarantee of nonstop daily joy.
Albeit joy with a swelteringly high humidity level.
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Did you know that sweet potatoes and yams are DIFFERENT? I just freaking learned that JUST NOW. What the eff? Am I stupid?
