View from Here

On top of Tank Hill, San Francisco looking toward the north bay
 March 19, 2011

Tonight I took an extra long time to put Ada to bed. I recited "Snuggle Up, Sleepy Ones" from memory and I urged her to drink more milk, swearing I didn't mix this bottle with Pedialyte. I watched her eyes fight off sleep until she eerily looked off into the distance, giggled, and then sighed deeply before she fell asleep in my arms.

This is when I sat there for an extra long time. I stroked her hair and kissed her cheek. I watched her sweet, peaceful face and felt her little legs dance reflexively as they succumbed to rest. A few times I told myself to put her in her crib and leave her to sleep but I didn't want to let go so soon tonight. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular.

Since I put her in her crib an hour and a half ago I have checked on her about 30 times - and that's not an exaggeration. Most of the time when I lay down in bed I hope she sleeps soundly through the night so that I can too. Tonight I'm hoping she will fuss a few times just so that I know she's still alive in there. I don't know why I'm so bejiggity tonight.

Maybe it's all the doomsday stuff on the news. Maybe it's that she's been so sick first with a cold and then severe GI upset - I'm worried because any time your baby isn't acting like herself it makes you fret terribly. Maybe it's that I'm mentally writing the letter for her 2 year photo book and I'm overwhelmed by all the things I so desperately want to tell her. Maybe it's that I spent the better part of the day ruminating on an idea for her second birthday party and I can't believe it's already been 2 years.

Our little sprout continues to thrive. 

Tonight it struck me again. It takes my breath away every time - how much I love her. How incredibly thankful I am for her. How if anything happened to her I am certain that I would simply stop breathing and cease to exist. I can't believe that I have already taken for granted moments with her. Life demands attention. Period.  Still, I could kick myself for doing the dishes instead of playing tea party with her.

It's windy on Tank Hill. She was thrilled while I couldn't hold her close enough to me. 

A tender moment like this one tonight just branded my soul with the pure desire to really be with my kid like I am when we read books together or roll around and tickle on the bed. To be with her all of the time that we are together. It's a salient reminder to let the rest of our lives come along at a slower, messier pace so that we can be... no, so that I can be a better, more present parent to my daughter. Tomorrow is the end of my work week and the forecast calls for rain for my whole weekend with her.

Rain or shine, I can't wait for my 3 days with my baby. You better believe that I'm going to absolutely drink her in even more than I usually do.