Wednesday Joy

This morning, just shy of dawn, I heard my son stirring in his crib. He was chattering sorrowfully to his stuffed duck. I cracked open my heavy eyelids and prayed he'd go back to sleep.

"Just 30 minutes more," I silently begged. "Just 30 minutes more."

But his pathetic conversation continued, and I there was no way I could leave him in his crib when he sounded so sad.

I hauled myself out of bed and down the stairs to his room. He was laying on his stomach in his crib, running his hand along the rails like a prisoner runs a tin cup along the bars of his jail cell.

My half-asleep heart melted.

I bundled him up and carried him and his duck downstairs, where we set up shop on the couch. He promptly snuggled down on my chest and went right back to sleep. And so did I.

What a lovely way to spend my morning - stretched out on my couch, cradling my baby.