I had high hopes for this maternity leave. I thought I would take a spiritual retreat, deepening my faith, memorizing Scripture. I thought we would venture off to D.C. for a vacation of sorts visiting as many museums as we could. I thought I would...
Instead, I have fed my baby around the clock, made many doctors appointments, washed a load of diapers every other day, watched every episode of this season's America's Got Talent, started watching online episodes of "Up All Night" while breastfeeding, taken a million photographs of the youngest member of our family and spent two marvelous nights up in the Catskills with great friends.
There's not enough time in the day to do everything I want to do. But I love watching Little Boy's every move and trying to catch him growing before my eyes. I enjoy "grown-up" conversation and my high pitched babble to Little Boy in an attempt to keep him from crying. I'm impressed that after every bath he can drool so much it drips down his face and into his hair. And he's on the verge of smiling at us. We're exhausted but happy.
And tomorrow I head back to work part-time. Another adventure begins where people may not be so patient with Little Boy's cries, his feeding schedule or my sleep-deprivation. However, it is quite likely that Little Boy will bring joy to others that I can't offer them myself, that they will hear his cries with less anxiety than we feel and that I may be able to drink enough coffee to hide my sleep deprivation for a few hours a week.
Surely everything will be fine.
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