I held her in my arms, swaddled tight. She squirmed and sucked on her pacifier. And I knew it would be a while–ten minutes, maybe twenty–before she would be ready to sleep on her own. I rocked her in my arms until she quieted, but I wanted to hold her for a while, just to be sure she’d stay asleep when I put her down.

I thought about what I could do while I was holding her. I couldn’t write an email or a blogpost. I couldn’t clean the kitchen or return phone calls or pay bills or do the laundry. I could read a novel or a magazine, something that didn’t demand all of my attention, something that didn’t require a full night’s sleep. I was disappointed. Yet again, nothing would be accomplished and soon it would be time for me to sleep on my own.

And then I realized–I had it all wrong. Upside down. Holding Marilee was the productive thing. Holding her, steadying her, helping her settle into sleep–that was the thing to do. The only thing.