When a tiny human cries and cries and refuses to sleep, and I'm exhausted and emotional and way past my limit... I hope I'll remember to be grateful that tiny humans, at least at the start, can't jump on your face. And bite your nose at 1am, and 2am, and 2:15am, and 3am... until two poops and a few pees later when they decide it is officially time for fetch and nothing else. And should you fall asleep amidst said fetch, thankfully tiny brand new humans, don't jump on your face and smash a wet, stinky stuffed bear into your head until you wake up, tear the bear away from them, and throw it. So they can jump off the couch, using your chest as a launching board, run and get the bear, jump up on the couch, jump on your face... and repeat from the hours of 4am to 7am.
Yes, I hope I'll remember to be grateful - that the baby can't jump on my face to bite me yet. And that I not only chose that tiny human, like I chose that tiny hairy creature years before, but that I desperately prayed for both.