Meet my niece, Bailey. She’s three months old, and she likes to sleep. A lot. For most of the day, this is what we do:
Even the dog gets in on the action:
Sometimes, when she’s awake, I get a little smile:
But, mostly, my view of Bailey is this:
As much as I’d like to wake her up and play with her, I suppose I’ll let her sleep. She’s got a lot of growing to do!
When my older niece, Nora, was a newborn, we would all watch her sleep and wonder what her personality would be like when she got a little older and started walking and talking. I feel like we didn’t have to wait long—how is it possible she is almost two, and has endless energy, a feisty personality and a growing vocabulary?
Now, my time with Nora involves sleeping only at the end of the day when it’s bedtime. The little baby who slept as much as little Bailey does now (although her momma may tell you otherwise) instead likes to play outside whenever possible, going on walks and picking up every little treasure she can find along the way:
Or playing in the bath with her bubbles:
Or running around the house in Auntie’s boots:
Or playing another game she calls “Running”, where she chases me down the entryway hallway, into the kitchen, through the dining room, into the living room, and back to the hallway. Around and around in enough circles to make me dizzy and, if I’m not at least jogging the whole way she yells, “Run, run! Go, go!” to make me go faster. I tell you, sometimes I’d give anything for a Nora asleep in my arms just so Auntie can catch her breath.
But, just as soon as I catch myself wishing for a playful baby one day or a sleepy child the next, I have to remind myself how lucky I am that, right now, I have both. I get sleepy baby snuggles and cooing and happy smiles, and I also get to run, and play on the playground, and read stories, and play with toys, and then run some more.
I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.