Ugh. I have these moments in my life when I stop and really notice what is happening. Just now, I basically had to force myself to put a sleeping and very cuddly Rogan into his little bed. While maybe just 8 hours ago I was wishing that he would stop talking to me so that I could listen to a news story on people hitting more and more deer with their vehicles. What the fuck? What kind of priorities are those?
I remember hearing once that we wait and wait for our children to learn how to talk and then later we wish that they would just shut up. It’s true. Well for me anyway. And I hate that.
I can’t stand that there are times when I look at Rogan and all I can think about is that he is my last, my baby, my youngest. His innocence and free spirit are true treasures. And yet he annoys me. Sometimes his incessant, and often incoherent babbling grates on every nerve in my body.
I speak for myself, when I say that I get so caught up in life and the daily rigors, that I lose appreciation for what these kids give to me. For some God damn reason, there are moments that the laundry and the dishes seem more important than what these little precious people have to say. I don’t want to be like this and I am.
Holding Ro tonight felt so good. Feeling his little body give in to sleep was wonderful. He’s been a little under the weather lately and tonight he seemed perkier and more like his old self. I truly did not want to put him in his bed. He’s 3 years old and I am running out of cuddle time with him.