Almost two years into this parenting thing, and I'll be honest, many precious moments pass in a blur. You don't have time to reflect, to appreciate certain milestones -- from the simple (Greta now says "Yes" instead of "Yup") to the advanced (her comprehension of sharing on the playground).
But a few nights ago, at about 10:30 p.m. after a fitful start to her slumber, Greta and I had a moment. She went down about 8 p.m. but had already required two visits to settle her back down in the big girl bed. Mommy went upstairs both times, told her it was bedtime, and rocked her for one song in her chair. She'd sleep for 30 minutes or so, then wail and have the comfort cycle repeated. When she cried out at 10:30, I went upstairs. Our beautiful almost-2-year-old is standing at the baby gate, a blanket in one arm and another over her head, barely able to catch her breath through the tears and sniffling. I pick her up, wipe her nose and dry her eyes, position a blanket on my shoulder and say, "It's OK, I love you, Greta." Greta doesn't lift her head, but she speaks clearly into my shoulder, "I love you too, Daddy."
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