the night asher was born i did not sleep. with his perfectly swaddled little self resting against my knees i just stared.
christian likes to ask me what he is dreaming about. in the very beginning, with all their newness, what are their dreams made of? what makes faint smiles cross their lips?
at just a few days old he did not like his arms to be held captive. he’d sneak those arms out and casually prop them behind his head. he also slept in his crib back then.
around five months everything changed. he’d sleep on us or in our bed – but not his crib. we obliged and then enabled but honestly i didn’t put up much of a fight. the instant we lowered him into our bed he would immediately turn to us. he’d reach for us with a frantic desperation. clutching our clothes and hair, he’d burrow in and fall into a peaceful sleep.
his breathing between us stole my heart.
and then he gradually stole our bed.
that burrowing is long gone. traded in for tossing and turning. rolling until he is comfortable. arms flapping against our faces, feet kicking our sides.
i wake up to his little chatter before he either plows over me or attempts to scale our headboard.
however long and rough the night, his morning smile melts me. except for last week. last week i was having an awful nightmare. someone dumped snake-lizards all over me (think raiders of the lost ark). the more i struggled the more they spread. i tried to scream but had no voice. the snake-lizards started eating into my stomach. i fought to get away.
i woke up and was startled to realize the snake-lizards were actually little whopper’s feet.
we may need to rethink this sleeping arrangement.
when you sleep; cake