Adam woke up this morning at six, which is unacceptable because he didn’t go to bed until nine last night. So I went up armed with milk and the willingness to cuddle the heck out of that kid until he went back to sleep. After 30 of the most calming and wonderful minutes of his head nestled under my chin, I decided he’d probably sleep better in bed. I begrudgingly set him down and came downstairs, trying to keep the smell of his hair in my mind. I’ve heard the smell of a baby does the same thing to a mother’s brain as drugs. No really! So it’s not my fault that all I want to do is lean over my kid and drink in his smell like I’m some kind of Dementor. Science!
Anyway, I came downstairs and faced a rare dilemma. It was 6:30 at that point and I had to decide to go back to bed or sit up and sip some tea while everyone (including the snoring cat) slept in. Sipping the tea won.
As I sat here watching Jeopardy and drinking my English Breakfast, it occurred to me that this situation has so rarely presented itself that I can’t remember the last time it happened. The sun was up, Adam had gone back to bed, and I wasn’t so wrecked from lack of sleep that I immediately dove back into bed and went comatose until the baby woke up again. The quietness of the house that I know will be a rarity for the rest of my childbearing days is incredibly relaxing. I feel like I’ve had time to actually ‘wake up’, which for me has always been sitting and staring at the TV until the sleepy fog in my head clears. Since Adam has been my wake up call for the last year that hasn’t actually been able to happen. I have to be in full ‘mom’ mode immediately because he’s not going to sit by and wait for food while my glassy-eyed self stares into space.
So here I am at almost 8am, everyone still asleep and I’m able to think about the day ahead. Our anniversary was on a Thursday so Mike and I are giving the grandparents baby duty and we’re going to spend the day together. What are we going to do? No idea. We’ve vaguely mentioned going to dinner and a movie, or checking out a BBQ festival going down in Lexington. I don’t know, but I’m not bothered by that. I’m excited to have the freedom to see where the day takes us, and even if we end up sitting on a park bench watching people go by, that’ll be a good day.
After all, it worked the first time we went to Paris:
A park bench at the end of a small island in the middle of the Seine is the memory that sticks out the most in my mind. It wasn’t grand or over the top. Just a simple, romantic memory that I’m lucky enough to have a picture of. Hopefully I’ve got my camera handy today if that happens again.