Well, NaBloPoMo ends on a rather anticlimactic note for me...because it's 10PM and I have a grumpy, hurting baby. One of those nights where you just dread going to bed because you know you're going to be up a thousand times. I'm already tired before we even start. So, rather than a thoughtful and interesting blog post to wrap up this marathon month of posting, you get this--me, sleepy and full of dread and trying to preach to myself what I preached to you yesterday:
Jude doesn't feel good. I have no way of knowing what exactly is wrong with him. He's probably going to wake up and need me several times between now and tomorrow morning. It is what it is. My job, rather than to calculate and recalculate how many hours of sleep I'm not getting and throw myself a pity party, is to love my son...to extend to him the patience and compassion I have been shown my whole life...to give thanks that I have a little boy who needs me and is comforted by my touch...to praise God for the privilege of motherhood and the little trials that force me to die to self.
What, did you think I write this blog for you? I write because *I* am thickheaded and forgetful and need to hear this stuff. You just get to listen in ;)