January 24, 2012
I awoke at 3:15 AM to the pitter-patter of little-girl feet. Those little-girl feet were attached to a little-girl body who very quickly and stealthily crawled into bed next to me, patted me on the shoulder and fell fast asleep. She was, no doubt, worried that I'd send her back to her room. I didn't have the energy.
I awoke at 4:15 to the pitter-patter of little-boy feet. Those little-boy feet were attached to a little-boy body who navigated his mother's side of the bed and, quickly and stealthily, crawled into bed on the non-Mia side of me, picked up my arm, placed it over his body and fell fast asleep. Then snored.
My kids excel at snuggling. Mia sets the bar high but Owen could go pro. And when they snuggle, they both have to be as close as is humanly possible. Which is why I woke up at 6:10 in a somewhat surprising amount of pain with a wrenched back, twisted next, a boy in my liver and a girl in my spleen. And Beth in Owen's long-abandoned bed.
Then my alarm went off. Despite the pain and the fact that I hadn't really had any sleep since the fateful hour of 3:15, I just stayed there. I was sandwiched between these awesome little people. They were cuddly and warm and they only wanted to be close to me. And I was okay with that.
Some days it's the little things. Some days it's the big ones. Some days it's both.Posted by Chris at January 24, 2012 7:37 AM