Why I love being a mama

Last night sucked. Really. Noah wasn't sleeping well because he has sipon (snot, for those of you who don't speak Tagalog) and was coughing. He came to our room EARLY this morning (and I mean EARLY - like 2:00 in the morning early) and James felt so bad for the little guy, he put Noah in bed with us. Fine. Noah's not feeling well, he wants us there to comfort him. I get it. But when the boy is sick, he is a restless sleeper. He is all over the place - feet in James's face, fingers playing with my lips. When I turn over to get away, Noah just climbs on my head so that he can still put his fingers in my mouth or stroke my lips. It's a weird comfort thing. Noah doesn't have any attachments to stuffed animals or toys. His attachment is to lips. Don't ask. I don't know.

Needless to say, last night was NOT a good night. I didn't get ANY sleep (until the alarm went off and James got into the shower - for some reason I ALWAYS fall asleep when James is in the shower). When I finally woke up this morning at 7:00, Noah was already awake and drinking his bottle. When he saw that I was no longer snoring and drooling all over my pillow, he took the bottle out of his mouth, grabbed my face and said, "Mama, I love you."

And with those four words (accompanied by a milky kiss), I was all better.