The Comfort of Boys…

I have been a bit stressed lately. It is nothing major, just me over-reacting to things going on in my world.

Anyway, when I stress out, I don’t eat, and I don’t sleep. And if you know me you know that these are two things I normally do with fantastic ease and gusto. The eating doesn’t bother me so much, but the lack of sleep is KILLING me. I am a bit grumpy on a good day, without sleep I am like a loaded gun. I’m snapping at the kids, flying off the handle at the smallest provocation. Fun for the whole family.

Last night I did much better. I give all the credit to the Terrors.

The last week or so I’ve been up until the wee hours of the morning in that silent mind-racing dialogue that makes one crazy. I was unable to nap during the day, so I was quite the peach, let me tell you.

Last night Big J was still awake when we headed up to bed. The DH invited him in to watch a little tv before going to bed. I noticed right away that I was calmer. Maybe it is something about needing to be stress-free for the kids, or maybe it was just having someone awake to engage with while my body got used to the idea of going to bed. All I knew was that I slept like a baby, falling asleep before 11:00 for the first time in a while. I would have made it through to morning if it weren’t for the wee-hours arrival of the O Man. He hopped in and even though I was so smooshed I couldn’t even roll over I fell right back to sleep. The Rookie, not to be left out, got up super early and showed up only to be turned away for lack of space. Perhaps they could sense that I needed some supplemental snuggles. Perhaps my stress was making them stressed as well, so they couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was just a happy accident.

The DH HATES it when the kids sleep in our bed. He hated it when they were infants and he would stress about rolling over on them. He hated it when they were munchkins and there was a risk of bed-wetting. He hates it now because the Rookie refuses to sleep under the covers, J is like sleeping with a furnace, and the O Man is both a snuggler and a sideways sleeper.

I LOVE it when the Terrors snuggle up to me for the night. There is nothing better than hearing them try to pad silently into the room. They stand at the side of the bed and give me those puppy-dog eyes and ask in their most pathetic voice “can I sleep in here?”. If they knew how much I loved it they would just wait to hear the DH’s snores and all pile in.

I see it as something that is slipping away from me more and more each day. They already won’t abide public hugs or kisses. I see the private displays of affection getting less palatable for them as well. It is a necessary transition on the road to making them little men, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Now that I appear to have an excuse to have them in the bed, I’m going to run with it for a while. The DH will grumble and moan and wonder why HIS presence in the bed isn’t enough to calm me. But I’m going to run with my new sleep aid…after all, it’s cheaper than an Ambien prescription…


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