Its 2:48 am and I’m lying awake listening to the gas that’s exiting my son’s diaper wrapped hind end. I’m also 11 weeks pregnant and can smell every drop of pee in his diaper…I guess they dont have odor block technology. Maybe that’s just trash bags. I dont know, I’m tired.

I spent 45 minutes in his room hanging half on to his day bed trying to soothe him back to sleep. The shhhhh thing on apple music works wonders..of course, I didnt bring my phone in and there was no getting up… so I pucker up, take a deep breath and begin manual shhhhhs. After what felt like eternity, but was probably only 3 minutes, my mouth was dry and apparently he sensed my struggle because he force fed me his water bottle. Lawd. Child. Go to sleep.

Narrator: her son pretended and pretended but he never, in fact, went to sleep, despite his mother’s grueling efforts.

When my hips (and bladder) could no longer take it, I got up and said night night, fully prepared to let him cry it out. As I head into our room to pee…I see his dad, suckered by that dang monitor, headed to get him and bring him to our bed.

I race to pee so I can hop back in and claim my spot before his tiny body claims both spots…in a K I N G S I Z E bed. I even take up a little extra room to give me wiggle room once he settles into a final awkward sleep pose. Childish but true.

Its 3:19 and his bare toes are in my mouth and his solid baby leg is covering my nose. Is this how it ends? Is this what moms mean when they say “these kids’ll be the death of me.” I feel certain it is.

These are the dog days. We are freaking in the thick of the D O G D A Y S!

Just as I’m confirming to myself this is rock bottom…he wiggles his toes to try to make me laugh, yes they are still basically in my mouth. I suddenly realize… I made those toes. I prayed for those toes to exist right here on my face and in my freaking mouth. I’d heard stories and saw memes forever about wild sleeping chirrens….when my womb couldn’t sustain a pregnancy…and I wished for the day. I prayed I would get to post my own funny someday! Well, HERE I AM, friends….I should’ve been more specific with time…I wasn’t really thinking 3 ambut oh, well!

He then lies horizontally between me and his dad, making a King size bed SUPER uncomfortable. I then remembered what it was like when there was space….like five minutes ago, and like two years ago, three years ago…and I realized these aren’t the dog days. These are the grueling glory days. These are the oxymoron days of kids being exhausting yet exhilarating while forcing you to prayers for help and also praise for the Lord’s faithfulness… all at.the.same.time. It is the best of times….it is the most grueling of times. It is awful and awe filled.

What a time to be alive. Yep, as I sit here at 3:46 on my couch, eating my freshly made mac and cheese while my little miracle sleeps in my spot and his in my bed. I’m growing another glorious human and while tired, I’m so damn grateful.