I was at a birth this week.  I've been lucky the last while and none of the births I've attended have had me up more than 24 hours.  That makes it relatively easy to catch up on sleep, and catch up on whatever work I've missed at my day job, around the house, and with my business.  This was a long one though and it was 40 hours after getting the call to go support my client before I was back home in my bed for a night's sleep.  Levi spent the days with "Bop & Ma" (Grandpa & Grandma), and was home with Dad'n (dad) at night. Levi was pretty fragile by the time I got home the second night.  I decided not to go into my day job so I could catch up on things, and not have to send Levi to Grandma's for a third day in a row.  I had great expectations for my day at home:  I was going to fill orders, make some deliveries, pick up supplies, and do some of my 'day job' work at home. Um, who was I kidding?  My expectations were simply too high.  Again.  Levi didn't just need me to be physically in the same space he was in; he needed me to be fully present with him.  He needed to nurse a lot; to sit next to me and look at stories; to share my lunch and steal my coffee.  And he couldn't do any of those things if I was racing around trying to catch up on stuff.  So he fussed.  Cried.  Stomped his little feet and yelled.  Until I clued in that I was trying to catch up on the wrong things.

  Dishes, laundry, meeting minutes, herbal orders.... they could all wait.  The two year old crawling onto my lap while I worked on the computer though?  He doesn't wait.  The minutes I miss with him while trying to catch up on work disappear forever. Yes, all the work needs to be done eventually.  But it doesn't need to be done this minute.  So instead I held him for a while.  I nursed him to sleep.  And I nursed him awake.  And we got caught up on the most important thing: 
each other.