Women Are Crazy III

Not an hour after I finished my last post, Nick interrupted my bath with terrified screams of caterpillars in his bed. I should have been annoyed, but I got out of the tub, threw on my tye dyed shorts and tank, and joined him in his little star bed nestled in the alcove. We sat there with our arms wrapped around each other and chit chatted about his friends at school, him in his little sing-songy voice. "Deeeecalin hit me, and I said NOOOOOOO... you don't hit Dominic!" and he goes on to add "I love Deeeeecalin, tooooooooo." Despite it being 11:15 pM, we sat up on the pillows, clapped our hands on our laps like in circle time, and sang "Good morning, good morning, good morning to you! Good morning, good morning, good morning, good morning to you! The day is beginning, there's so much to do!" (At 'so much to do' the palms go up - very important, apparently). I took the opportunity to adjust the lyrics a bit "The Day is now ending, it's time to go snooooze..." and improvised snores, which didn't exactly calm him down as he proceeded to have a five minute snort session. But eventually I did what I do to James when James starts in on his half hour motor talk... I ignored him. And five minutes later, he was asleep in my arms. I don't know the last time I had this little man breathing into my neck, the smell of him so close I could eat him.

As if the two of my kids had conspired together, Sophie woke up moments later. I went to her, too. Within seconds she was asleep, her little arms wrapped around like a noose. She now takes over my whole upper body, and the warmth of her rocked me to dreamland as quicker than the financial report on CNN. In those moments between waking and sleeping, I forgot about the dishes, and the laundry, and all my unfulfilled career ambitions. It was just me and this little lifeforce, clinging onto what she considered the most important person in the world. She could care less about my paycheck, or my figure, or my domestic skills: Mama, couch, tired... that's it.

I woke to a start at 2am with no Sophie on me. The little munchkin managed to roll off the couch and was sound asleep on the linoleum. I shook her gently to be sure she was okay from the two foot drop. Then I kissed her, set her in the crib, and slept until 7am.