OK, but here are the facts:
- Zoë caught a little cold yesterday; her secretions were flowing like Niagra last night (and today). She'd try and nurse and would have to pull away to come up for air. (Bless her heart). Needless to say, neither of us got much sleep (Danny had decided to utilize the extra twin bed in Holden's room... very convenient).
- Zoe-bug also decided at 5-ish, just as the horizon was starting to turn from black to a dusty yellow, that should would wake up... and be up for a couple of hours.
- At 6:45 I traipsed into Holden's room and made a huffy breath, almost in tears: "Zoë's been up since five and she won't go back to sleep!" I was whining and exhausted -- and knew the day I had ahead of me. I was already scared.
- The husband traded me beds.
- Holden woke up... wanted a milk and The Avengers (the cartoon). I lost it as only a Mom can (I'm kind of embarrassed for myself) -- making empty threats about show-watching (I loathe empty threats, and try to be so vigilant about avoiding them when I'm sane and more rested.)
- Danny swooped in to rescue Little Bits from the wrath of Mommy-Dearest (yours truly).
- Moments later I think I hear Danny shut the door. I can hear the baby crying through the wall. My spirit whispers that I should get up and do something to help him. (I failed to mention that he spent most of his free-time on Sunday playing "mom." Taking care of kids, cleaning up messes... and generally organizing and taking care of things that I've been meaning to do and haven't gotten to... I've been a little busy lately; no seriously, we're not just making cinnamon rolls and drying lavender people.) But I just lay there.
- Moments later I wake up to the sound of Danny's dress-shoes on the hardwood floor outside the bedroom.
- But it wasn't moments later. It was 9 am. Danny had loaded the kids in the car and driven to MAGNA via 3900 south. Yes, my amazing husband loaded our little people in the car so that Zoë would get some rest (he says since he doesn't have boobs, it's the only way he can get her to sleep); and I got two more hours!!!!
- Best husband ever.
So here's a little note to myself that you can read:
Dear Sabrena,
Next time you decide to complain, nag, or give your husband a hard time about ANYTHING, please remember this day. Remember how thoughtful he was. Remember how much he loves you. Remember these acts of service before you decide to fly off the handle because the trash bag wasn't replaced -- the trash was taken out -- can't you be happy about that?!?!
Cut him some slack. He's a good man. A good father, and an amazing husband. You really have got the full package. Please keep that in mind.
Just remember that, ok?
Love,
Me
No comments:
Post a Comment