Sacrifice

Alarm rings at 4 am today. Get in shower and I proceed to put face soap in my hair. I'm like Munch's "Silent Scream" - ARGH on the inside, not wanting to wake anyone up. Third time in a year I've done this. Since hubby still cannot lift, in order for me to go into work super early when required, my parents stayed over. They slept on the sofas. We don't have a guest room. Naturally, I get out of the shower and hear the baby crying. Not a good thing when I have to be in the car at 5 am. Hubby goes to wake my mom, who was probably awake because how comfy can it be to sleep on a comfy sofa all night? Mom feeds baby her bottle who looks at me with puzzled eyes, "why is Nonna feeding me? What are you doing?" 4 oz. seem to make her happy and we leave her with Dave on the changing pad on our bed to sleep. I'm downstairs getting ready and hear the pitter patter of feet upstairs. Oh, no! My son is up. I dash upstairs and he's in our room and he says he's not tired. That's funny, I think in my head, you SO look it. Take him downstairs and snuggle him on the sofa and he closes his eyes. This is not a typical day, THANK GOD! It is all part of the sacrifice of being a grown up, of being the sole provider (for the time being) of benefits for the four of us, so off to work I must go. You can leave out the heigh ho part. My parents go up and above the call of duty watching our kids FOUR days a week. That wrecks havoc on their lives, but they do it out of love. For that, I'm forever grateful and hope when I'm a grandparent, I can pay that sacrifice forward.