This morning Will woke up at 5:00am to use the bathroom and he woke up the baby. I, of course, over reacted and snapped a nasty remark to Will. Because after he came back to bed, I then was awake spending the next hour and a half trying to rock/nurse Liam back to sleep. And as I lay there in the wee hours of the morning watching Liam kick me in my ribs, flip over onto all fours, and babble “glub-glub-glub” over and over again, I suddenly hear Liam let out the loudest baby fart that you ever did hear. Will and I both giggle and it was only then that I realized that my poor husband, whom I had just snapped at, was also awake this entire time. I felt horrible for my reaction and quickly apologized. Liam’s little early morning farting session was the universe’s way of saying “chill out Priscilla. Nothing is worth getting your panties in a wad.” And perhaps we’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be. Wide awake at 5am, in a king size bed, surrounded by the men of my dreams, who are now both equally good at making me laugh. Sometimes, even with their farting.
