“Hi. I’ll have a tall iced coffee, unsweetened with room for milk please. And a grande Americano.” The barista looks at me knowingly, but doesn’t say anything. “Would you like your receipt?” she asks. “Yes please.” We keep track of our finances with our checkbook. We are diligent to enter every receipt. It has been a long time since we were last charged with overdraft fees. “Do you know about our special treat receipt? You can come back later and get an iced drink for just two dollars.” “Yes, and it might be one of those days where I actually use it.” The barista smiles. She is a coffee master according to her apron. “You do look a little tired!” I am not offended by her comment. I know I look tired. I AM tired. I chuckle and tell her that I have a 2 month old at home. The other barista, the one behind the bar says, “oh how is your baby! I can’t believe it’s already been two months!” I love our baristas. I tell her she is fantastic, but that I am so tired that some days I feel like a train ran over me. She smiles. She has no clue what I’m talking about, but maybe some day she will. Our drinks are ready and I put my sunglasses on my face like a hollywood star.
She hugged me this morning! A real baby hug. I went to pick her up out of her crib at 6 this morning and she was all smiles. Her swaddle was undone down to her waist and you would have thought Santa Clause walked in the room. Except she doesn’t know who Santa Clause is and would probably have been very freaked out to see a large man in a red suit. I picked her up and snuggled her tight. And then the most beautiful thing happened. She wrapped her little arms around my neck and squeezed tight while I walked back to the bedroom. My heart all but melted inside my chest and I refused to fall asleep while she nursed. When she was done eating, she let out a huge sigh of contentment and rolled her face over to the side. I let her lay in our bed while I finished an extra hour of sleep. This was the sort of morning that God uses to restore mothers. That and coffee.