Our Special Time (or Why I Just Watch You Sleep and Surf Facebook)


To my sweet baby girl,You are the light of my life. My days have become immeasurably more purposeful and blessed since the day that I had you, even before, since I found out that you were just a little bean growing in my belly. My deepest desire is to be the very best human I can be so that you’ll grow up with the mother you deserve.

But right now, I just want to stare at you and surf Facebook.Β 

You didn’t know me back then, but I used to have a tremendous work ethic. When I met your father, I worked so hard that I once put myself in the hospital. When I started school, I had two jobs and maintained a perfect 4.0 GPA. I worked three jobs throughout my pregnancy. So I’m not lazy.

…Not until now anyway.

You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I could (and have) spent hours looking at your perfect Cupid’s bow lips that tremble when you’re really upset, your little button nose, and your huge dark eyes, the ones that narrow when you smile and are framed by gorgeous thick lashes that can’t even spell mascara. When you fall asleep on my chest, I’m content to just lay there with you for hours, listening to you snore gently (I should probably ask the pediatrician if you’re supposed to snore) and wishing I had asked your dad for a sandwich before he left.

Why? Because when I’m laying here with you, very little else matters.

And I’m terrified that if I move, you’ll wake up.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy you when you’re awake. It’s when you’re up that I get to see your smile, hear your laugh. When you’re awake we coo at each other. You nurse and I feel that rush of love and pride. But you also scream. And poop. And fuss. And refuse to eat unless I walk and bounce and talk to you at the same time. And hit me in the throat as I try to eat the food I left on the kitchen counter hours ago.

So this is our special time, as I lay here, kissing the soft spot on top of your head and reposting Harry Potter memes.

You’re my favorite thing in the whole world and I love you with every breath in my body. But playtime is for Daddy, because he gets way more sleep than I do.

You and me…we’re going to lay here and surf Facebook.

4 thoughts on “Our Special Time (or Why I Just Watch You Sleep and Surf Facebook)

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