The temperature finally dropped last night.
After a day of relentless heat, a houseful of kids (other people’s as well as my own) and more moments than one where I noticed my inner thighs rubbing together, (must do something about that), I was physically drained; energy zapped from my body like a dead battery.
So at 10.30pm, you can imagine my surprise when I went off to reacquaint myself with my pillow and found a sleep-fighting Mr 4.
“I can’t sweeep”, he whined. “Can I sweeep wif yooouu?”
I quickly weighed up my odds: Good night’s sleep versus argument and tears…
“Will this be the last time?” I asked in a cautionary tone.
My answer, an indignant little head nod, purposefully, up and down, like Bobby from The Brady Bunch.
“Go on then!”
So, as Mr 4 is the best little cuddler, (huggler), in the St George region, together we slept, immediately and restfully….
…Until 3am, when I was awakened by a little cry from the other room.
I trudged across to check on Little Miss.
‘You’ll be two in a couple of weeks’, I thought, staring down at her in her cot.
My little baby.
My Man and I decided long ago, that two kids would be our lot in life.
We assumed, that by only having two kids, it might be easier to get back on track financially and career wise and it would mean that we wouldn’t have to make any major modifications to our place, cars etc…
What’s that saying? When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.
We feel very blessed with our healthy pigeon pair and at this point, they are a rewarding and manageable duo. Something tells me that another baby might tip us over the edge into Frazzledom, at least for the first few years…
I stroked Little Miss’ skin, she was cool. I was never into intentional co-sleeping with my kids. ‘Don’t touch the baby while it’s sleeping’ was and still is my mantra but last night, I couldn’t resist.
After all, she is about to turn two.
I scooped her up from her cot and together we huggled on Mr 4’s big boy bed (a single). I breathed in that beautiful smell; Avon* baby hair detangler and rubbery dummy. The best smell on earth.
I stroked her hair as I got kicked in the boob and hugged that portly little torso, while a tuft of fringe was removed from my head. Co-sleeping has its perils.
Eventually she settled high on the pillows and I was able to rest the side of my face gently against her plump little thigh. A perfect, most heavenly pillow.
I know from my own experience as a daughter, that huggle time in bed with Mum and Dad has an expiration date, so until that point, I’m going to huggle my butt off at every given opportunity and drink in those incredible smells and experiences of closeness, as deeply as I can.
How do you feel about you baby/ies growing older? When did huggling in bed stop for you?
* Not a sponsored post, I promise but this detangling spray smells just like green apples and it’s the Freaking Bomb! So if you find yourself an Avon Lady (or Man), do yourself a favour…