So we have decided ( more like he decided) to move Owen up to a real bed. So after a trip to Ikea and Target … Tuesday he snuggled in for a night’s sleep sans bars. At 4:30 a.m. I hear little tiny feet padding down the hall. I know what I should do. This is the beginning of the education process and I should take him immediately back to his bed, snuggle with him for a second and leave him on his own. However, like I mentioned, it is 4:30 am. The good parenting can start tomorrow. So I quickly scoop him up and place him in between me and Shaun. Within seconds his breathing relaxes and he goes back to sleep. I realize I really need to pee, and I might as well take him back to bed while I am up. At 6:17 am, a little crash and lots of crying. Owen fell off his big boy bed onto his legos below. Stepping on legos hurts like hell I can’t imagine falling onto them from a early morning stupor. Shaun, who should be getting up for work soon anyways goes off to rescue him. Still screaming, Owen once again is snuggled up next to me. It only takes a moment to calm him down and he is thankfully back to sleep. My mattress must have magic properties. Once Owen hits my mattress his breathing slows and you can just see his body relax. I know it is not the mattress so much as the proximity. His parents are right beside him. He immediately feels safe and loved and lulled to sleep by my snoring. I get that. I am almost 30 and I still desire that feeling. I remember being little and trying to sneak into my parents bed. When I was really desperate I would even lay on the floor beside them. We were never the warm or cuddly type, but I wasn’t scared if they were in the room. Knowing someone is there, right there is assuring. All the thoughts running though your head are quiet. I can’t help but compare this to our Father. Why aren’t we soothed so easily? If it is just a proximity thing all we must do is draw closer. Swallow some of that pride that says a grown up is too big to be scared or ask for help or crawl into their daddy’s bed. My son is not afraid to seek comfort, to snuggle, or to be afraid. Now someday soon I hope he gets used to his bed and can make it through the night without falling off or waking me up……but for now I’ll take my snuggles when I can.
Someone recently sent me a meme about tattoos. I reminded them that I have over half a dozen, although none in such obvious places as the picture. I thought about it while I washed my hair, and how once my hair was also purple, and what kind of memes could be found about that. And also, my nose was pierced. Other than the first two tattoos, none of these were things I did in my youth. All were in my thirties. Currently my hair is a plain brown in a sensible cut. My tattoos all easily hidden with most clothing and only my ears are pierced. As this decade closes I have made efforts to dress more professionally, drink less, stay on top of the laundry although I still refuse to make my bed and talk at an appropriate volume level. Yet, I only looked back on my purple-haired days with longing rather than regret. See, I used to do those things to be different. Sometimes I’d feel just a little trapped by my suburban life although perfect, felt a little too predictable. I fel...
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