I've been super tired lately. It probably has something to do with the fact that I'm never in bed before 11:30 these days and I'm usually up around 6:30. And I have three young children. And my house is big and messy. And there is a lot of laundry to do. And, because I've decided to make almost all the Christmas gifts I'm giving this year and that takes a lot of time. And, because I'm taking two online classes right now. And, and and....
Anyway, it's been one of those weeks where if I get the chance to sit down, and it happens to be quiet, I'm out like a light.
Yesterday after we got home from dropping the brothers off at school, I sat down in a chair next to Quinn's box of toys to watch him play. And I fell asleep. I couldn't have been out that long but I woke up to the feeling of my hand being patted. Upon opening my eyes, that sweet little baby of mine had brought me his blanket, it was on my lap, and he was rubbing my hand like I rub his when I rock him to sleep. When I looked at him, he smiled a sheepish little smile, laid his head on my lap, and then crawled off to keep playing with his toys.
Man alive! I love that kid.
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