The time when she is sleeping is my time. It’s when I am to return emails, make phone calls, and write.
I have laundry to fold, dishes to wash, and kitchens to clean. I need to relax, I need to eat, I need to think about myself for a minute.
But I get distracted by this little person next to me, who has decided that the only! way! she can sleep! is on her tummy!
She moves in her sleep like a sleepwalker. Or a zombie.
So while she sleeps, I trim her nails, and hold her hand, and watch her body rise and fall.
I can’t wait for her to wake up.