There used to be a time when I could sleep in. I could stay snuggled under my blankets until 10, 11, or even 12 o’clock. I could stay up into the wee hours of the morning without fear of being woken at the break of dawn. Those times are a distant memory now, stolen by age and the cutest damned toddler on the entire planet.
Slightly after the sun’s vitalizing ray’s crested over the eastern horizon this morning, the innocent voice of my sweet Baby C drifted into my ears and rustled me from my slumber.
I laid there for a moment, silent and unmoving, hoping he would go back to sleep, but that would not be the case.
I peeled my covers off and sluggishly sauntered to his door, where he awaited me at his surprisingly still affective baby gate.
“Are you ready to go downstairs?” he asked with so much enthusiasm that you can’t do anything but happily acquiesce.
“Okay, baby, but we need to change your butt first.”
“Okay! Let’s go downstairsssssssss!” he exclaimed once he had a clean diaper affixed to his tushy.
I carried him down the stairs, where his attention immediately went to the Christmas tree we erected in the living room yesterday.
“Turn the lights on?” he requested.
I plugged in the lights, illuminating the tree with glowing bulbs of red, green, blue, and pink.
“It’s the lights on!!” he happily declared. He then plopped his little butt down on his miniature Sesame Street couch, and quietly stared in wonderment at the magical Christmas tree.
He remained there until the flash of my camera snapped him out of his trance, and he absolutely had to see the picture I had just taken of him. He then demanded that I put on Chip and Dale cartoons so he could watch them for the 13245765512th time.
As I sit here slowly nursing my morning cup of coffee, the sound of Disney cartoons filling my frigid living room as Baby C stares intently at the television while simultaneously munching on muffins, I realize that sleep is overrated. I can sleep some other time. I would much rather carry these memories with me than have an extra hour or two of sleep. These are the moments that make life worth living.