Its raining outside. Oh how I love the rain! It is so calming, so refreshing, so cleansing. Earlier when I noticed the clouds rolling in, I literally got excited thinking about the possibility of rain. Then when Jim Cantore confirmed our 80% chance I was ecstatic. As I stepped outside to exit yet another poopy diaper wrapped in a grocery bag, I inhaled and was met instantly not by that oh so lovely smell of Nutramagin formula poopy diapers, but by the sweet, delicious smell of rain: the smell of promise and of renewal.
Can you smell the rain? My oldest munchkin can. She can always tell when it is going to rain just by smelling the air. Maybe she will grow up to be Jim Cantore's assistant.
I wish I could say that my excitement of our impending showers was for unselfish reasons, like, because we really need the rain (which we do). But this was not the case. I was excited because rain meant no football practice which would result in my husband being home. And, more importantly, rain meant a calming and relaxing setting for some good snoozing!
Now if you have read any of my blogs before you should sense the foreboding lurking just behind the door. No literally, it is right behind that door. The one right down the hallway. The one that leads to the room of my 12 or 13 (I forget due to lack of sleep) week old. Because after getting everyone, including the baby, the two other munchkins, and my husband in bed, I tiptoe in to my bedroom, lay down in the bed, read a chapter or two from my book (Heaven is For Real, which is phenominal), snuggle down into the covers, and close my eyes.
Wait for it!
It starts quietly, but it starts nonetheless. The subtle whining of a little one who has been awoken from her slumber that has only been going for less than 30 minutes: the whining that soon blossoms into a full on wail. Reluctantly, I get out of bed and put the paci in to no avail. She is not having it. So I do what any good wife of a husband who lets her sleep late everyday should do: I shut his door and let him nap to the hypnotizing sound of the rain. While I give up, fix a pot of coffee, and start to blog while waiting to see if she will drift back off, which she does before I am even half way through.
I think she just didn't want her mama to miss one of her favorite things: the smell of rain.