Last night Antique Daddy wasn’t feeling well. In a pre-emptive move, I left him to his snotty, sneezy, germ-spreading self and Sean and I high-tailed up to the guest room for a Mom n’ Tot sleepover.
I’m not a big fan of co-sleeping because sleeping with Sean is like trying to sleep in the center of a tornado. There is just a lot of activity and not a lot of sleeping.
After we read six or seven books and said our prayers, we snuggled down into bed, face-to-face, nose-to-nose, on the same pillow. “Goodnight Sean, I love you,” I said to him which triggered his automatic response of “I wudsyew Mom.”
I just looked at him for a moment almost unable to believe that I was someone’s mom. How on earth did that happen? His crazy hair was going in all directions and his eyes were heavy with sleep. He looked like a teddy bear in his sleeper pajamas. I wanted to squeeze the puddin’ out of him but I didn’t lest I set off another round of jumping on the bed.
I watched his eyes flutter and then finally close. Stillness settled over the room. “I love being your mama,” I heard myself say.
“I wuds bein’ your boy,” he whispered back without opening his eyes.
And that somehow made up for the fact that I only got an hour and fifteen minutes of sleep.