I’ve been grousing a lot lately about how hard having an infant is and how much I wish I could have a day off. Jamie’s been sick and teething so I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep and as the days drag on and I continue to get very little sleep I have more frequent thoughts of having a vacation.
I dream about going away for the weekend. Without the kids. Without the husband. Without the dog. Going somewhere ALONE and having no responsibility except to myself and my own desires. Sleep when I want and for as long as I want. Eating alone and without interruption. Reading a book. Watching adult TV.
I constantly wonder what I thought I was doing having another baby just when life was getting easier with Liam.
And then I walked into daycare this morning with Liam.
There was a sign posted on the door about a little girl who attends the daycare. She was 18 months old and she died of SIDS at her home on Friday. She was healthy in all ways. Now, those parents have lost their little girl with no warning.
I cannot imagine the pain they must be going through. I can’t imagine trying to go on with your life when there’s a hole in it where your kid used to be. Suddenly, my life really doesn’t seem that bad or that hard. I bet those parents would give anything to get up in the middle of the night with their little girl. I bet they’d give anything to be exasperated with her getting into something for the 87th time when she knows better.
So, even though I’m tired and cranky and on the edge of getting sick myself I’m happy right where I am.