I have been talking to Drew about food and choices and eating more things that are good for our bodies. I have told him that I love him, and I’d like his body to be happy and healthy and feel good, etc, etc. I may have overdone it a bit, because we were shopping at the grocery store today and he was loudly commenting “I really like your body, mama. I like it when you eat things that are good for your body, because it makes my body happy and we both feel so good!”
I am expecting a call from the State any day now.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Sleeping Beauties
I am just going to say it — I love sleeping with my kids. I know in a lot of circles that is something people freak out about – it seems like you either are a cosleeper, or you aren’t.
Zachary goes down to sleep alone, but Drew still wants me to lay (lie?) down with me each night. By “wants” I mean “refuses to go to bed alone”. But I am actually ok with that. Especially since Zak was born, I really relish the half hour or so we snuggle (or “smuggle” in Drew parlance) before he falls alseep. We talk about his day, we read a book or three, he tells me about his dreams or tells me a story. Then he rolls over, places my arm around him and commands me to smuggle him, and drops off to sleep. And of course, so do I, since I cannot be still for more than 10 minutes without sleeping. I wake a couple of hours later in excruciating back pain, usually just in time to hear Zak crying for me. I grab him and we retire to the recliner, where he nurses the rest of the night. About half the time, Drew joins us in the wee hours, and then it’s the three of us, crammed into a recliner built for one, a mass of tangled limbs and boppys and blankets.
I wake up in the morning with a hand or a foot or baby milky morning breath in my face, loose and warm sturdy baby boy bodies wrapped around me, and I feel content.
I often wonder if I would feel the same if I was a stay at home mom. I know that even I sometimes feel a need to get away from all the touching that is a part of being a mom to little ones, and I am sure it’s worse for moms at home with their kids all day, who have 24 hours of tugging and pulling on clothes. For me, though, I am away from them for 9 or 10 hours a day, so it’s hard for me to begrudge them sitting on my lap at dinner, crawling all over me on the floor as we play, or being unable to sleep without the dulcet tones of Mommy snoring in their ears. :P
Even on the days it feels claustrophobic – when I have a cold and can’t breathe and am fairly certain I will suffocate with Drew’s massive noggin all up in my face, or when Zak has been literally attached to me All. Night. Long. in some sort of nursing marathon — I try and appreciate that this time is so short lived. They will want me so much less as they get older, my sweet round faced little men, and by the time they are young teenagers and I am dropping them off blocks away from their intended destinations so they won’t be seen with me, I will look back and remember that there was a time that all they wanted was to be close to me, and I will never be sorry I indulged them. Or myself.
Zachary goes down to sleep alone, but Drew still wants me to lay (lie?) down with me each night. By “wants” I mean “refuses to go to bed alone”. But I am actually ok with that. Especially since Zak was born, I really relish the half hour or so we snuggle (or “smuggle” in Drew parlance) before he falls alseep. We talk about his day, we read a book or three, he tells me about his dreams or tells me a story. Then he rolls over, places my arm around him and commands me to smuggle him, and drops off to sleep. And of course, so do I, since I cannot be still for more than 10 minutes without sleeping. I wake a couple of hours later in excruciating back pain, usually just in time to hear Zak crying for me. I grab him and we retire to the recliner, where he nurses the rest of the night. About half the time, Drew joins us in the wee hours, and then it’s the three of us, crammed into a recliner built for one, a mass of tangled limbs and boppys and blankets.
I wake up in the morning with a hand or a foot or baby milky morning breath in my face, loose and warm sturdy baby boy bodies wrapped around me, and I feel content.
I often wonder if I would feel the same if I was a stay at home mom. I know that even I sometimes feel a need to get away from all the touching that is a part of being a mom to little ones, and I am sure it’s worse for moms at home with their kids all day, who have 24 hours of tugging and pulling on clothes. For me, though, I am away from them for 9 or 10 hours a day, so it’s hard for me to begrudge them sitting on my lap at dinner, crawling all over me on the floor as we play, or being unable to sleep without the dulcet tones of Mommy snoring in their ears. :P
Even on the days it feels claustrophobic – when I have a cold and can’t breathe and am fairly certain I will suffocate with Drew’s massive noggin all up in my face, or when Zak has been literally attached to me All. Night. Long. in some sort of nursing marathon — I try and appreciate that this time is so short lived. They will want me so much less as they get older, my sweet round faced little men, and by the time they are young teenagers and I am dropping them off blocks away from their intended destinations so they won’t be seen with me, I will look back and remember that there was a time that all they wanted was to be close to me, and I will never be sorry I indulged them. Or myself.
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