There it is, folks. My reason for being.
Every afternoon at work I start to countdown the minutes to when I get to bust out of the office, get in my car, fight 95 North traffic for 40 minutes, and run through my front door to my daughter jumping off the couch and saying "HIIIIIEEEEEE!" to me. She will wave at me, and say "Hi! Hi! Hi!", and stand at my legs and wrap her arms around them until I've unloaded all my stuff and I can scoop her up. Then I will countdown through the nightly whinies and grumpiness and the nightly baptism of bathwater all over my back or legs, just to get to this very moment right here. Just to get to the moment where I can sit in a rocking chair and snuggle with my baby and sing songs to her and listen to her jibber jabber along with me and all my daily troubles melt away as her chest moves up and down with slower and slower breaths. Eventually she starts to drift off and I realize it's time to put her in her crib, but most of the time, I really don't want to. Most of the time, I have to force myself to do it.
Honestly, I need those quiet moments just as much as she does.
A little bit after I put her to sleep, I start to miss her. I start to wish she was awake and downstairs with me, even if she was whining or being grumpy. So then I start the countdown to when I get to go to sleep so I can wake up to this.....
....and then I get to start my day with her all over again.
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