Sunday, July 17, 2011

There were five in the bed...

(and the little one said…
rollover, rollover
so they all rolled over
and one fell out..)

Well, not quite, but nearly.
We have four of us in two beds, however the Poppet’s cot is flush with our queen bed and we’ve taken down the dividing rail so it acts as one big bed.
At present as I type my Sprocket is curled sleeping in the crook of my arm while my Poppet is sleeping on her back on the other side. My husband is reading his ipad at the bottom of the bed.
Before lights out we’ll move the Poppet into her cot, carefully making that sure she is well away from any pillows and our doona. During the night she will wake repeatedly, searching me out for milk. Luckily, the Sprocket no longer does that, although he will want mummy milk in the morning and will have to be distracted if I am to escape his industrial strength sucking.
I love having my little ones close. I love being able to wake in the night and listen to their breathing and reach out and touch them, to feel the rise and fall of their chests, the way their tiny chubby fingers curl around mine in automatic response. I love the feeling of them curled warm and amazingly them to either side of me.
I love the extra time of drinking in the curve of their cheeks, their full lips, the sheer perfection of them.
One day they will not want to be curled up beside us, will not want to wake to see us and smile and giggle with delight that we are there, will not coorie into us. While they do, I’ll make the most of it.
I miss spooning with my husband. Finding ‘us’ time is a bit of an art.
I’m not so keen on waking to find the Sprocket’s feet in my face. He has a decided preference for sleeping horizontally. Not sure why. But there it is. My partner and I are used to waking with little feet firmly pressed against our ribs or neck. I haven’t checked it out, but I think he might have some magnetic component too him that he has to sleep facing due north.
However careful I am to make sure the Poppet is well away from any pillow or quilt, I am always a little bit afraid and wake many times during the night to check her breathing and make sure that she hasn’t moved too far.
And although the Sprocket is almost three… I check him too.
I dream of sleep…
The Poppet wakes around o – 3.30 and starts sleep feeding – on and off till I get out of bed around 7. Sucked dry, I wake on a sugar low, cranky as all get out until I get food food more food.
There are many, many different ways families organize their sleeping. Right now, this is ours, and I know the day will come when I will sniff and sigh and tear up and say ‘Do you remember when we had both our little munchkins curled up with us.’
And my husband will snort and say “Yup. My back’s never been the same since.”
But he will miss them as much as I do. 

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