Five Minute Friday {mercy}

“Mama, will you read me mine bedtime story?”

“I am trying to sweep the kitchen.”

I almost said this to you. So glad I stopped myself. I am too tired to think.

“Of course, sweetie. Do you want to read it in my bed?”

“YES! Mama’s bed! Let me get mine piwate ship!”


You have been sleeping in my bed for almost 2 weeks now. Colds, allergies, croup, ear infections. You are sleeping strange hours. You are up several times a night. Sometimes dozens. You are waking with night terrors. And waking with a stuffy nose. You are asking for milk. And water. And you have gotten up to potty every night. {Thank you for not wetting my bed.} As you migrate all over every square inch of my queen-sized bed squeezed into a 9 x 8 ft room. My bed is filled with your toys and books and your sweet little toddler-sized pillow. There is no point in even making my bed at this point. Your poor dad keeps sleeping on the couch. He isn’t a mom. He isn’t used to being kicked in the face and chest and back and everywhere else. You have been kicking me since you were 16 weeks in my womb. Always restless. But always wanting to snuggle your mama. Yet he is in here tonight. You are both snoring. And you are both talking in your sleep. Mercy, no wonder I can’t rest. These amusing one-sided conversations of half gibberish and ‘real’ words infest my dreams.

As we read, you repeat everything I say or whisper it while I say it or shout it before I can even turn the page. You love this ‘night-night’ book. You have it memorized. Ironic. Bedtime is usually the hardest part of our day. You will not give up and close those gorgeous eyes. Just say ‘night-night’ and drift away.

But I would never ever give up reading that bedtime story to you. In my bed. Where the stunning red throw pillows are always on the ground or covered in your drool or being used by a stuffed animal. You will always be more important than sweeping that old kitchen. The dried Play-Dough and chunks of waffle can always wait. They will always be there. Always. But you are in your last month of being three. And with each day that passes, you get closer to four. And eighteen. And closer to giving up Play-Dough. And closer to fewer waffle messes. I don’t wish for those days, but I am sure I will deal with them when they come…something about seasons. Let’s not think about it right now.

Time’s Up…


Five Minute Friday

Linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Be generous and leave an encouraging comment for the person who linked up before you. That’s the best part about this community.

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4 thoughts on “Five Minute Friday {mercy}

  1. Shannon says:

    Oh that bittersweet reality of fewer and fewer play dough and waffle messes. Sort of makes me want to do a happy dance and collapse into the fetal position all at the same time. Motherhood is crazy like that.


  2. You sound like a very merciful mommy. Keep up the good work.


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