I’ll admit, there’s a certain amount of relief when it’s nap
time. When baby O's eyes close and I lay him in the dim light of his crib… I
tiptoe away. I carefully and quietly shut the door and come into the light of
the house. And I sigh. The world is my oyster. It’s not that I don’t completely
enjoy it when he’s awake. I do… But he exhausts me. He wakes up in the morning with
a full tank of gas and while I’m trying to make pb&j’s for the girls’
lunches, he wants to speed crawl to the least desirable place in the kitchen.
He wants to empty the cabinets and eat whatever strange and gross thing he seems
to magically find wherever he may roam. He sucks in his little lower lip, his
eyebrows curve down into a look of fierce determination, and he crawls like the
wind… I pick him up but he wants to go go go. He’s also teething. Poor guy.
That’s some painful business, judging by the tears and fussing… But to share
the love he bit my boob yesterday . In case you’ve never had your boob bitten,
I will tell you – it hurts. Bad. So yes, I enjoy O’s naps. But right around the
hour mark – when my battery has been recharged, I begin to miss him. Then when
he finally wakes up and I go in to get him, it’s always like a little gift. He
sits in his crib and waits for me to come. Just seeing him with his bright face
and his hair sticking up, makes me happy.
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