Small But Mighty

It doesn't actually seem physically possible that a two-year old's body could completely monopolize a queen-sized bed, so that the adult who's sharing it ends up cliffhanging off the furthest six inches, scruched in a terrribly uncomfortable ball, hoping not to fall off and knowing she'll never sleep. But anyone who has taken a sick toddler into bed with them knows what I am talking about.

First of all, the reason the child is there in the first place is because you thought it would be better to bring her into bed with you rather than run into her room every twenty minutes just to rub her back and reassure her that you know she's miserable and that you understand. But once she's there the tossing and turning ensues, squeezing you into those thin six inches of the edge, until finally, spread eagle diagonally across the entire spanse of the bed, the little one FINALLY falls deeply asleep-- no crying, no coughing, no fussing, no wheezing, just finally, silently asleep. And at that point you DONT DARE scoot her over, because the last thing you'd ever do is wake her up again!

It's just exactly what happens to your life once you have a baby. Out of the span of a 24-hour day, your own interests and goals end up designated to the few spare minutes at the end of the day when you're too tired to pursue them anyway. Her peace, her learning, her growth, her development come first, leaving you cliffhanging onto the ledge of your own desires, just hoping that that will be enough to keep them alive until a much later time when once again you can actually pursue them.

I am not complaining. I am happy to put myself last for a while, and I love caring for my children. But one has time to ponder these things as she lies awake listening to a snoring, content, and COMFORTABLE little person next to her!