Last night was a long night, actually this past week (month) has been full of long nights. The kind of long nights that only other parents can ever truly understand.
I found myself pulled from slumber, slipping down a tunnel from a dream and back into reality. For a moment I was accosted with sound that seemed to mingle with my last dream (last night I was in the midst of a dream about a cool new art/hang out place called Harf Anng) and I couldn't place the sound. Oh yes, it hit me, I am a mother and that sound was my little lady. She's been struggling with teething lately and apparently it's most troublesome to her at night.
I sat up just enough to catch a glimpse of the sickly green light of the clock telling me it was only just after midnight. I knew I was in for it. I soothed her and got her back to sleep and was just drifting off again when the cycle repeated. Over and over every couple of hours. I finally gave up around 6am.
I took Cordelia out to the couch where we just sat there in a daze, under the glowing yellow lights of the two lamps I turned on. The heater rumbled to a start and breathed its warm breath over us, enhancing the strange mood of the morning.
Eventually we roused enough to begin our day. I did the math and realized I probably patch-worked together about 6 hours of sleep, enough for me to function on. I reminded myself that parenthood is about sacrifice and then it hit me...what exactly am I sacrificing? I spent the night cuddling the most precious gift. I get to be her mother. I am the one and only that gets this wonderful job. I am just so thankful that I am here, that I get to be the one to comfort her in the night, to snuggle her in the morning.