Forcing Adagio

I'm laying in bed as I write this, pinned under twenty-seven pounds of sleeping, nursing baby. I'm reminded that at times, our rhythms don't naturally match the rhythms of those who depend on us. As much as I'd love to be up and doing weekend tasks that prepare us for the week, my tired and cold-fighting child needs me right now. He is sleeping the staccato sleep of someone whose periodic cough keeps rousing him from a deeper place of rest, but my presence allows him to keep trying to get there. In turn, I'm feeling myself slow down, face my impatience, and breathe. We're a symbiotic little mother-child dyad!