I struggle getting my little guy to sleep. I can make him laugh, coo, and gurgle. We play games, we read stories, we cuddle. But when it comes time to fall asleep, he fights me like a mad man. Chris, on the other hand, is able to scoop the turtle up, settle him right into the nook beneath his collar bone, and after a few whimpers, the little guy is sleeping like an angel. So this morning, when the turtle fell asleep on my shoulder, his soft cheek against mine, I thought I would die content, right there on the spot. It was heaven. And then I looked at the clock: 8:15am. I was showered, but still in my robe and the time to leave for work was just around the corner. My heart hurt. It literally hurt. And, I would have done just about anything (except lose my job) to have stayed in that spot all day.
It's been seven months and it hasn't gotten any easier. Monday mornings still make me cry.