Miracles

After witnessing what I just did, I am a firm believer that miracles do still happen. Let me say that some have called me a skeptic or even a pessimist, though I still claim the proper term is “realist.” Regardless of semantics, I have never been one to easily believe without first seeing and then analyzing. But now I am a believer.

For the last couple of days, Jonas’ naptime has become a struggle of the wills…his vs. mine. On day one, I’m sorry to say that even though he eventually went to sleep, he would be considered the victor. Let’s just say when he was finally sleeping soundly, I needed to give myself a serious time out. On day two, I prepared myself for the challenge ahead and easily won the battle by playing the I’m-taking-away-your-trains-if-you-don’t-lay-down-right-now card.

So here we are at day three. Again, I prepared early for the battle, figuring I would once again be removing his trains from the post-nap toy options. We read some books, sang a few songs and then it began. He wanted to sing more. Nope. Please? Nope. I felt the battle emerging. He reached for my hair and began playing with it (since birth this child could find even the smallest distraction to keep him from sleeping). I said, “No, you aren’t going to play with my hair, but I will play with yours while you go to sleep.” I began running my fingers along his eyebrows, across his forehead and through his hair. Within a few short minutes, he was fast asleep. I lay there smiling. Did this really happen? Did he really just fall asleep with no struggle, threats, explosions, crying fits or tantrums?

I must say that I am a bit surprised by my elation. Could such a simple act of falling asleep really make me this happy? The answer: absolutely. The last few days have acted as permanent and total birth control. The question of having more kids has been answered. My patience and temper have been taken to the limits and beyond. How could I possibly survive another child? But then this little miracle happens. No sea was parted. Water did not become wine. The blind did not see. And yet it was so much more than the simple act of a child falling to sleep. Call it what you may, but my sanity knows the real definition.