It has dawned on me recently that in my over-eagerness to ensure that my little one will nap in her crib and fall asleep on her own (which I've read is of upmost importance at this age), that I might somehow be missing something critical. It's only a matter of time before this cute wriggly baby of mine figures out how to lift her tiny body off the ground and start crawling away from me.
It's always so easy to look back at a period in one's life and reminisce fondly, isn't it? "Oh, remember when baby girl was such a little thing! Oh, how I miss those days." I can already hear myself saying it a year from now. Truth is, it takes effort to be intentionally present and enjoy it all some days, especially if baby girl won't nap, there's a laundry list of to-do's and dinner hasn't yet been prepared for my husband who's about to walk in the door any minute now. If I'm honest, there are days when I view her as the distraction. It's those days that I'm attempting to function like I did pre-baby and it's an undeniably flawed way of thinking. The whole reason I'm even home to begin with is so that I can spend time with this beautiful daughter of mine.
I want to make sure I'm soaking in every last morsel that I can while it still lasts. Babyhood is much shorter than toddlerhood after all. So if life calls for a nap in the middle of the day while the toilets remain unscrubbed, spaghetti is served for dinner yet again and we don't leave the apartment all day, than so be it. Yesterday when my little girl had an upset tummy, instead of just plopping her in the swing with some white noise, I decided to lay with her in bed and pat her back softly until she fell asleep in my arms. We laid that way for three hours, her and I, cuddled together. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Those moments will be the memories I cherish in a few years when she's running around on the playground, not how clean my apartment was or the meals I served for dinner. That time together, with not a care in the world, is where my heart belongs.