My morning cup of coffee has increased in size by a few cups recently. And there’s a routine to go with the giant mug that holds 5 cups: The Husband is kissed goodbye, I tidy the kitchen from us eating breakfast, fix my giant mug, and then our Sunshine stirs and beckons me from upstairs. Mug in hand I go to nurse him as he wakes for the day.
This morning I still have the giant mug in hand but don’t technically “need” it like I usually do. My three month old slept straight through from 9:30pm-6:30am. And I was scared silly when the alarm rang only to find that my baby hadn’t been moved to our bed with his first wake up like usual. A hand on his back proved that his heart was still beating and I had merely lucked out.
I don’t expect this to happen again for a very long time. A total fluke.
Kinda like the day that I went to get him after a nap only to find that he had rolled over. He’s not done that again since.
He’s still my baby, he still needs me at night (right?!), and I’ll still want a giant mug of coffee every morning.
But for now I’ll enjoy the feeling of seven consecutive hours of sleep for this body.
And because our Sunshine is so perfect and beautiful and everything wonderful to look at…