There is something deeply soul-satisfying about having your almost-toddler crawl over to you on the floor, put one arm around your neck, pat her diaper-covered tummy with the other, then stick her thumb in her mouth. What she has just done is say, “Mama, I need clean pants and a nap, please.”
And then, after a quick change and a tear-free cuddle in the rocking chair, she is sound asleep at 1:45 in the afternoon.
I know part of it is the night of interrupted sleep we all had last night and part of it is her newly found skill of pushing her walker all around the living room. But after three days of fighting the naps she so badly needed, days like this make me feel like I’m getting part of it right.