I think we all pray for the day when our kids will sleep through the night. And that first night that they finally do feels like a major victory. And once we reach that point, why would we ever want to go back?
I had church activities last night and Todd was at a Carolina baseball game. My mom got the boys to bed for me. When I got home, I checked on Hudson and he was asleep. I settled in on the couch and was in a hazy state while watching Joshua Ledet slay the competition. (Just my two cents.)
All of a sudden, I heard a sob. And then I heard screaming, “I want my mommy!” So I jumped up and rushed to Hudson’s room. I tucked him back in, kissed him, and returned to my spot.
About thirty minutes later, it happened again. So I asked him if he wanted to come snuggle up with me on the couch for a few minutes.
Those moments between 8:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m. before I go to bed are my only true moments of completely relaxed “me time” during the day. I can respond to emails, watch whatever I want on TV, catch up with my husband, or just fall asleep on the couch. All things I like to do.
But when my three-year-old is calling for his mommy, it all changes.
There is nothing sweeter than the feeling of a still, snuggly toddler boy breathing deeply while his heavy eyelids blink closed against your cheek. There is nothing that breaks my heart more than looking at his soft little hand holding mine while my other arm is supporting his solid little body in the little nook where my arm meets my body.
I held Hudson while we listened to the American Idol contestants finish their performances. We giggled a few times, but mostly just laid there in silence.
I absolutely love that my kids like to sleep. But when I got the opportunity to hold my biggest baby without any distraction last night, I was overwhelmed with excitement. Truly.
I imagine this is how the Father feels about me. I come to Him daily when it’s easy and I have time. But when life gets hectic, I push my time with Him to the back of my list. So I go on about my way, asserting my independence and just taking care of myself.
But when I can’t go on like that anymore, and I finally open my eyes and realize that I need Him, He’s ready for me. With open arms and more comfort than I could ever imagine. When I pray and ask for this comfort, I imagine myself in that same little nook where I had Hudson last night.














