Lessons from my baby daughter #12.
Miss L learned a new word on Saturday morning. It was the kind of morning that, once upon a time, Hubs and I would have enjoyed a sleep-in and a lazy breakfast. A little overcast with the promise of early summer warmth and a day full of nothing to do.
Sometime in the wee hours Miss L had migrated to our bed and, when the sun finally peeked through the curtains, I opened my eyes to her pert little nose touching mine, her eyes wide with mischief and her little voice shouting ‘Up!’ not more than five centimetres from my ear. Up indeed.
It was hard to get up this morning.
Actually, it’s been hard to get up every day this week. These are the facts. Hubs has started a new job in the city and the commute begins at 3am. Miss L has decided she would like her six front teeth for Christmas thank you very much, rather than the usual two, so she’s been fretful at night time. This week I have spent more time sleeping in the cot and on the floor next to the cot than in my own bed. I take an ace-inhibitor and a beta-blocker each day to lower my heart rate and give the heart muscle time to recover. The problem is that the side effect is low blood pressure and mine is already through the floor on its own. Now we’re talking 82/47 and if the systolic makes it over 90 I’m positively soaring. I also take a duo of blood thinners that makes that magical time of the month… well, let’s just say the dose of magic is extra heavy and I am in need of an extra juicy steak.
So yes, this morning was hard to face but I thank God for my chirpy little girl who gives me reason to wake up, get up and get going each day. There is no option. Miss L needs a clean nappy, a bottle, breakfast, bath, clean clothes, another nappy, teeth brushed, play time, and a nap before lunch. This morning was no different. We got off to a slow start but we made it and I even snuck a load of wash in as well. At the moment she is happily playing with a hanger and crawling around my feet. No, I take that back. She has wiggled under the bed and bumped her head so this might be a shorter post than usual this week.
The point is, for so many people, getting up each morning is a battle. My battle is bloodier than some but nowhere near as prolonged as others. It is a battle nonetheless and as such, if I decide to stay put then I have lost before I even begin. Every day I get up. My clean clothes are my armour, my minty-fresh smile is my shield, my three-weet-bix-and-milk is my ration, my hair tie is my weapon and ‘Up!’ is my battlecry. So go on, get out of bed, change out of those nightclothes, put on something with snaps and a buckle, eat a good breakfast, brush your teeth and do your hair and be ready for this day. It might just be better than the last. It might even be your best yet.
As Miss L says, ‘Up!’. What do you have to lose?