How have I found myself here?
Three and a half years on I’m still sitting by a little boys bed waiting for him to go to sleep.
I don’t believe in babies crying it out, I have put in many,many hours sitting by cots at ungodly hours of the night to ensure that my children knew I would be there when they needed me, to encourage contented sleeping
But as I sit here, looking at this little boy I know I’m being duped.
He twists, he turns.
Legs are under covers, legs are over.
Head is on the pillow, head is off the pillow, head is under the bloody pillow.
Pyjama top is on, pyjama top is off.
He’d like a drink.
Eyes get heavy, begin to close and then flick open again.
Another question, another kiss.
I stay calm.
This in itself is a miracle…I was right up the front when they were handing out quick tempers but must have been lurking behind the door when they were giving out patience!!!
Yet I’ve learned, with this little man, losing my calm facade only prolongs the agony.
So I sit, like a prize eegit, being held ransom by this gorgeous little boy.
On the outside I’m trying to channel this…
But inside it’s more like this…..
Photo Credit; yogajournal.com