You cried big wet noisy tears when you woke from your nap today. You were disappointed with yourself for sleeping when you coulda been exploring the laundry pile and chasing the dog and hiding behind […]
You cried big wet noisy tears when you woke from your nap today. You were disappointed with yourself for sleeping when you coulda been exploring the laundry pile and chasing the dog and hiding behind the curtains. Little love? You’re 9 months new, and you have more energy than anyone, bitty or large, that I’ve ever met. You wake circa 5 a.m. giggling and bright-eyed and ready for kisses and apples and Curious George, and you spend the rest of the day earning smiles and exploring your world.
You love making the most of every minute, and the only thing worse than sleeping at night—the only thing more horrendous than closing your eyes while the world sleeps—is napping during the day. You’re never so angry as when you wake to find mom and dad laughing or chatting without you. Tearful eyes express the words you haven’t yet learned to say, “Why didn’t you wake me? I thought we were friends!!”
Little bud? I want you to know that I miss you when you’re sleeping. I love naptime, sure, because it’s my lone opportunity to use the bathroom and brush my teeth and eat an avocado BLT. Still, after 20 minutes or so—after I’m fed and the house goes from embarrassingly messy to ‘she probably wasn’t expecting company,’—I start missing your sparkling eyes and giggle fits. Do you need proof? You’re asleep right now, and here I am, awake and writing about you.
You don’t sleep very often, Mr. Max, and I’m learning that part of the issue is how much you love this life. Today, for example, you roamed your nursery like you’d never been there before: 15 minutes tossing all the diapers, towels and wipes out of the changing station; 20 minutes taking all the toys from your red wagon and hiding them behind the rocking chair; 10 minutes pushing your walker around the room; 30 minutes—ha—you’ve never spent 30 minutes doing anything besides splashing in the tub. That’s right; splashing in the tub is your favorite, second only to playing with mom and dad, and closely followed by tossing the contents out of the fridge.
You’re going to holler when you wake up in a couple of minutes. Wide-eyed and trembling, you’ll wonder how you were tricked into taking a nap, and you’ll vow never to make that mistake again. Don’t worry, love. Mama will play “The Gummy Bear Song” as you nurse, and in 10 minutes, 15 tops, you’ll be feeling rested, fed and loved.
It’s a big wide world, Mr. Max, and you’re heading toward a life of excitement and mega love and huge passions. You put your heart (and energy) into everything you do, and I’m looking forward to watching how your gifts and talents and excitement change this world for the better.
A spot of advice, baby boy? Not from mom, for once, but from a trusted source on achieving the good life … Mr. Charlie Brown advises four things: “Learn from yesterday, live for today, look to tomorrow, rest this afternoon.”
The bit about resting this afternoon? There just might be something to it.
Sweet dreams, Max.