A friend of mine currently has two amazing, beautiful children (one the same age as my son) who are recovering from a weekend in the ICU. Both are doing better, but it has been on my mind all the time.
So when my son dragged out his bedtime last night, when he insisted on extra kisses and another glass of water, when he crawled into my bed and demanded I rub his back, when he made farting noises with his mouth instead of laying still and trying to sleep, when he told me my face wash smelled yummy and tried to lick it — I didn’t protest. I didn’t think about the bad habits we were getting into. I didn’t think about how I really needed to implement a firm bedtime routine.
I thought about gratitude.