I'm a bit of a zombie today. For the past couple nights my littlest has been keeping me up. While teething is no fault of her own, I have always struggled with waking up cheerful to attempt to comfort an inconsolable baby. The first couple nights are no problem. I jump from my warm sheets and cuddle her head under my chin, patting and shushing until she is calmed down enough to earn me a few more hours sleep. But now I'm into the second week. After crashing on the couch watching a insane amount of gLee (never watched it before, honestly) I stumbled to bed and was unable to sleep. I laid there wide awake, baby finally asleep after 10 days of writhing and whining.
She is my last. All those times when someone tells you to enjoy these moments (even the sick days) because it is all going to change, believe them.
Very soon.
Too soon.
It's much easier to realize that when I remember that my oldest will be 10 next month!
But as long as I give today what I can, I'll never miss it because I lived it, fully. I love them at every age, but I will never want to go back. I would miss all they are today.
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