There is a defining moment in every parent’s life where everything suddenly clicks. Like an epiphany. For the most part, being a parent does not make any sense. I’ve traded my nice, quiet evenings for scream fests, romantic dinners for mush-slinging food fights and my dancing shoes for bedroom slippers. These days, my idea of a nightcap is a shot of valium and not vodka.
Inevitably, it begs the question, “Is it all worth it?”
And just when I thought its all downhill from here, the pieces falls into place.
As usual, Tru was out cold after his late evening feed last night. It’s like clockwork. He’ll yank the bottle out of his mouth with a flourish and flip over to his side, which is his trademark “Do Not Disturb” signal. Normally, we’d put him back in his crib, but last night his dad decided to have some fun at his expense, which involved some tickling and pseudo-chopping of his limbs. I was half expecting an irritated swat, but instead he broke out into hysterical sleep-giggles.
If you haven’t seen a sleep-giggle (kinda like a step up from a sleep-smile), you don’t know what you’re missing out on. He was too tired to even open his eyes, but the grin was almost involuntary. It definitely topped my list of 10 things to experience before you die. That right there was my defining moment, and I knew I was doing something right.
So it’s a truckload of sacrifice. But I’d trade all the movies and dinners in the world for some sleep-giggles.
