Sleepy Girl

It is unusual that I have to wake my daughter up. Usually I have to sneak into the shower so I don't wake her. By the time I'm out, she's looking for "mommy" (apparently MY nickname as well as her mother's). So this morning, had I not heard the little teeny tiny snores coming from her bed, I might have been a little worried.

I believe its beginning to be somewhat of an irrational fear for me, but real nonetheless. I go in to check on her and just make sure she's breathing. I can't hear her just by opening the door, so I have to traverse the minefield of cracks and creaks in her bedroom floor that I have mapped in my brain over countless missions to her bedside. I've also had to ensure (several times) that the IEDs that are her toys have been cleared as well. The ball that I have tripped over, the bouncy horse that begins clippety clopping along, or the Devil Dog that awakens at the slightest touch and tells you of its undying love and need for a hug as you approach its perimeter. For those who don't believe me, it's the one toy I don't ever put in her bed. And then I'm there...hearing her deep sleep breaths and her little snores and know that my mission has been accomplished. No one else feels this way do they?

So this morning as I'm rubbing her back trying to gently awaken the little princess that is my daughter, I'm amazed at how much she's grown even in just the past month. Looking at pictures from three months ago, I can see some really big physical changes and hearing her new words every day makes me proud that she is my little genius. Knowing that she'll wake, give me her toothy grin and say "Daddy. I love you."

As we all know, reality is a harsh mistress. She comes slamming back just in time to smash dreams and curdle our hopes into an impassable mass. My daughter, the love of my life and the apple of my eye, stirs and looks up at me with a somewhat bewildered and tired look and says...

"Where's Blitz?"