There are certain days I find myself battling nap time at our house. The longest stretch of daytime sleep I can get out of our sweet bug is 45 minutes if she is left by herself. It's a different story if I let her nap in my arms or when she's able to drift in and out of sleep in the car seat or stroller. Those naps last far longer but those naps also don't allow me to get anything done while she rests.
A mom in our play group recently mentioned that her son, who is the same age as Liv, takes three hour naps. Three hour naps! Oh, the things I would do with three uninterrupted hours to myself each day. Wash a week's worth of dishes in the sink, fold the mountain of laundry on our bed, water the wilting flowers on the front porch, do an exercise video, WRITE A BLOG POST!
But just when I start to get frustrated with our situation and wonder when, for the love of Nate Berkus, those three precious hours will ever come, I remember that I can't actually remember how small this baby of mine used to be, and that the time warp that is motherhood is no joke.
11 weeks have passed and Liv has nearly doubled her birth weight. She babbles, holds her head up, bares weight on her legs, and flirts like a pro. When I think about how quickly she has changed, suddenly I don't wish for anything other than to slow down this exact moment.
I am willing to bet that in 17 years when she's sneaking out to meet her boyfriend and telling me I'm embarrassing her in front of her friends, I won't be wishing I had spent less time holding her as a sleeping baby.
So for now, the dishes can wait. The remaining pooch from pregnancy can stay, and I will hold my baby for as long as she will let me. Because even if all I'm accomplishing in this moment is cuddling her tiny body, it's enough.