The birth supplies are in order, the clothes and blankets and diapers stacked on bookshelves in our room. There are some snacks around and enough groceries to last the week. I'm thinking it's time to wash the car seat cover and put up the pack-n-play bassinet. Our room is feeling crowded. . .
So, I muse aloud and ask L (4 and 11/12ths!) what she would think about having the bassinet in her room.
"Great!" she enthusiastically responds.
"I'm not sure." I say. I don't want the baby to wake her up in the night.
"Well, maybe you could just teach me how to make milk and I could feed the baby for you." she volunteers. I see the sincerity on her face and am so touched. I thank her for the offer but explain that won't work.
"That's okay," she says. "If the baby cries, I'll just pick him up and bring him to you so you can nurse."
Oh, this sweet girl! How I remember feeling this way with our first- that it was such an exciting joy to need to be up at night to meet a baby's needs. Now my selfishness rears it's head and I dread the sleepiness of months without resting through the night. I'm looking forward, thinking of adding another CHORE, instead of looking at the JOY of serving, of being needed, of the sweet baby smell in the dark. My daughter, bless her, reminds me of all of this. (But I haven't put the bassinet in her room yet!)
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