It’s Sabbath again, and my boy is sleeping. He’s grown so much that I can barely keep up with the changes.
Every single day, I marvel at how much I love him, how sweet he is, and how quickly he is growing up.
Every single night, I pray that he’ll please please please sleep for just one more hour without waking. He’s been doing a bit better for the past few nights than he was doing last week, so I guess I’ll take it.
Last Friday night may have been the worst night of sleep we’ve had since he was born. It could’ve been a sitcom episode; at one point all three of us were asleep on the nursery floor, and before that, my husband was walking Baby Guy through the halls singing, as I cried my eyeballs out. I was so overwhelmed with fatigue that I just couldn’t function.
Despite not sleeping much at all, husband was up and out of the house in time for the early service at church, and I had showered and chosen outfits for both the baby and myself before he left. The trouble only came when I laid Baby Guy down for one more nap before Sabbath School. I decided that it would be a good time to sleep while my baby slept, so I did. Two and a half hours later, I was awakened by a text message from my husband, who was looking for me in the sanctuary (church had started fifteen minutes earlier). Sabbath school was long over, and my son was still sleeping (which was, arguably, a miracle).
I was pretty sad that we’d missed Sabbath school and church, but I was feeling much better after my nap, so I just decided to be thankful for the blessing of sleep.
I’m really feeling optimistic that tonight will be better than last Friday, and I truly don’t want my son to miss out on another Sabbath school session. He really does love it (even if it is always during nap time), and it’s so great to watch him be excited about the songs and all the activity going on around him, in spite of the fact that he can’t yet completely participate in all of it.
On a slightly different, but (sort of?) related, note: Yesterday, all three of us were at the elementary school. My husband was teaching a class, and I decided it was a good time to bring Baby Guy around to see my old coworkers and the kids. I don’t want to brag (yes I do), but he was such a sweet boy the whole time we were there. He smiled and talked and snuggled the people who wanted to hold him (only grown-ups, though some of the kids asked if they could). I was really thrilled with how he handled the close to two hours we were there.
Even more than that, I was so proud of and thankful for my school (yes, I know I don’t work there anymore), because when my son is there, he is loved. My coworkers love him and the students (even many that I don’t know at all) love him. It’s really humbling, actually. One thing that especially struck me was that two kids, at two different times, were talking to Baby Guy and said, “I knew you before you were born!” They were both boys, a third grader and an eighth grader.
It was kind of a little thing, but it really touched my heart that those boys would each talk to my son that way; the way that God speaks to us. I remember that third grade boy, when an enormously pregnant me was substituting in his classroom earlier this school year, standing in front of my belly, saying, “When you get born, you can come to school and play with us, and I’ll take care of you!”
I guess he really meant it, because he was right there ready to love my son the second we stepped into his classroom.
How precious it is to know that Baby Guy is already a beloved part of my community. I really feel grateful for it.
So, I hope that tomorrow we can make our (possibly bleary-eyed) way to Sabbath school and church to worship with our friends. I can’t make any promises, but I will try.
Either way, have a happy Sabbath.