In my small world right now, there is not much more beautiful and right than watching my baby sleep. It's the best kind of peace imaginable full of the occasional sleepy sigh, sound asleep smiles, her lips nursing as if she's dreaming of milk, the sudden jumping and flailing of arms and/or legs followed by deep sleep once more. I could sit and get lost in Georgia's sleep-filled face for hours. Her peace gives me peace.
Many days though, like this one, I face a dilemma as the clock strikes 12:50 p.m. Do I break this spell of peace and wake my angel up or do I let her continue to dream of milk and succumb to the fact that I will be late for work. 12:50 p.m. is my on-time out-the-door time to get Georgia dropped off at daycare and make my commute into downtown Omaha with enough time to slide into my desk chair around 1:30. It's a battle with myself I lose all too often, including today. Georgia and I left the house at 1:10.