for pete’s sake

This little guy had his dad and me taking shifts all through the night last night.  He was feverish and teething and the Tylenol just wouldn’t help.  Neither would the teething tablets, or the feedings, or the teether.  He just wanted to be rocked and held very tightly.  So much pain and so little sleep over just one tiny little tooth.

In a brief moment of exhaustion, I even considered waking our toddler up.  Nothing makes Peter as happy as his big brother.  Don’t worry, though, I regained clarity and realized afresh the importance of sleep in one’s life to keep them from making such ridiculous choices.

Our Peter is a mover.  He is so active and so bouncy that I feel myself slowly tiptoeing into the years of mobility with him, trying with all my might to avoid the inevitable.  I think my efforts have been in vain, though.  Full blown crawling is just around the corner and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to keep up.

Knowing this, it helped me not begrudge the rocking and soothing and singing at midnight (and the six other times that followed throughout the early morning).  One, because it is so rare that he actually sits still, and two, because I’m reminded by watching Sam just how fleeting these days really are.

This could be only three hours of sleep talking, but isn’t there just something so sacred about those late night hours of comforting your child when no one else in the house is awake?  When you’ve tried everything, but all they really need is you?  When you would stop at nothing to relieve the pain, as small as it might be to you, but so big to them?  And when you’d stay awake, all night if need be, to make sure they know you’re not leaving?  Not ever.

It’s as if I was given a front row glimpse into what the strong, tireless arms of the Lord do for us.  Every single night.