It's 7.39, Friday evening. Court is at work. Sophie is in bed. I have dinner in the oven, red wine in my hand and James Taylor on iTunes.
Court and I have always said that with Soph we have a bad day and then a good day. Ebb and flow, all that. This was particularly true when she was super reflux-y and undiagnosed. Usually when I have a bad day with Sophie, I tell myself that it was a write-off. "We'll wipe the slate clean and start afresh tomorrow", I say. I did that on Tuesday this week. And Wednesday. And Thursday. Today was excused because we had plans that got us out of the house at nap time.
It has just been one of those weeks. Sophie isn't a big sleeper during the day. I assume she'll have two half hour naps - one in the morning and one in the afternoon. It isn't a lot, but it's enough time to myself to make it through the day. I have a few minutes to switch off. This week? No naps. Maybe 15 minutes in the car, but I can't switch off while I'm driving. The thing that replenishes my energy is the 12 hour sleep she has every night.
As I'm typing this, I'm thinking that as hard as it is to get through a day - or this week - I miss her as soon as she goes to bed.
And so I'll attach one of my favourite recent photos to this post. It's of my two most favourite people ever.