Thoughts of a tired Dad
I wake groggy, eyes half-shut, and stumble to my feet. Drunk on an hours sleep I make my way out of my bedroom and in to the little person stood in their crib crying and babbling.
That tinge of frustration rings out as I pick her up and begin to hold her as she kicks her legs. I want to go back to bed. I need more sleep.
We begin to sway, and she calms down. Her head lays on my shoulder. The stillness of night returns. I can hear her gentle breathing as her hand holds onto my shoulder. She feels safe and I feel guilty for being frustrated.
Moments pass and I remind myself that this is a season of life I will miss; holding my baby in my arms in the middle of the night. She is growing so fast, and I won’t be able to hold her like this forever.
Her breathing deepens, she’s sleeping deeply again. I breath her in one last time, set her down and creep back to bed.