This past weekend was your birthday. Family from both sides came into town (Mom’s family from Tampa, Dad’s family from North Carolina) and friends from all around came to join in the celebration.
It was a fantastic get together all centered around you. There were cupcakes and presents and laughter and good weather.
You walked around excitedly, waving at passing birds and fallen palm fronds. You were full of life and you were happy. It was wonderful to behold.
As the weekend came to a close, my family was preparing to travel back to North Carolina on Monday morning.
You and I were supposed to join up with the fam for coffee as soon as you woke up, which commenced at the break of dawn upon your call for a diaper change and a bottle.
I was groggy. I changed you, fed you, changed you again, and then gathered our things for the ride over the bridge north to the hotel where the fam was holed up, but I couldn’t find the diaper bag.
I looked in all the normal spots and it wasn’t there. I looked in your bedroom, I looked in our bedroom, and I looked in the usual spots in the living room. No bag. I was talking with your Mom about where the diaper bag might be, and decided to check in the car before lugging you out there. I didn’t want to have to double back if the bag turned out not to be there.
I walked towards the front door and, as my hand touched the doorknob, you called out ‘“eyyy dada!!!”, so I stopped and turned around.
There you were, amazing little you, standing next to the couch, holding the strap of the diaper bag, waving it at me and smiling.
I wish I knew what you needed on these nights you wake up screaming. I try everything I know and nothing seems to do the trick. It breaks my heart to hear you cry.