Wishes

Having two children is harder than I expected it would be. That being said, I didn't really think about what it would be like. Instead I focused on the fact that we were parents already. We had already ushered one little person into this world, through infancy, past toddler-hood and into the preschool years with some success. I didn't focus on the fact that I would be doing that all over again, but this time with a 2 1/2 year old hanging on me (both figuratively and literally at times).

Thankfully Madeline finally seems to be adjusting to life as a big sister. Her negative attention getting behaviors seem to be on the decline and she is a total riot. She makes a laugh a million times a day.

The challenges we face now revolve mostly around Lydia's sleep schedule. I hate to complain. She sleeps, just not on the schedule I want. I know there are parents, some of my very close friends included, that would love to have a baby who sleeps for four hour stretches at night. I only wish she started her night about two hours earlier. A lucky complaint to have I guess.

Which leads me to the reason I started this post in the first place.

I find myself wishing for things that I know I will miss once they are gone. Tonight, as I was rocking Lydia to sleep, I thought to myself, 'I wish she would just go to bed.' I am tired. I am stressed from a long day week three months. Sleep is a rare commodity around here. I do just want to go to bed. But if Lydia could just put herself to bed do you know what that would mean?

That would mean I would miss her smell as I rocked her at night and kissed the crown of her head. I would miss the feeling of her body weight completely relaxed, warm against my chest. I would miss the sound of her breath and the coos she makes as she is falling asleep. I would miss these moments with her as a baby.

It is hard to see the positive when she is fighting sleep and crying at the top of her lungs. Tonight as I rocked her in my arms, it hit me. I can't wish these moments away. If I do, I will regret it when my children are all grown up and I no longer have a baby to rock to sleep.

I do know how lucky I am to have my daughters. So very, very lucky.



All that being said, I have spent the last two and a half hours trying to get Lydia to sleep. Just before I lay her down in her crib I take a deep breath. The worry that she would wake the moment I lay her down makes my heart race, almost like a panic. I hold my breath as I lay her down, slowly remove my hands, quietly walk out of her room and down the hall. It isn't until I cross the threshold of our bedroom down the hall that I exhale. Then I wait, listening for what's next. If I'm lucky, really lucky, I get to go to sleep myself. It is going to take a lot of will not to keep wishing these days away.

I will keep trying. I know they are worth my effort.

mg