January 17, 2011


(Helping with the fence...)

They are the most frustrating, lovely, observant, stupid, tender tyrants on the planet.

We keep changing sleeping arrangements around here. I'm in the biggest room in the house. Makes perfect sense that one person should have more square footage than three. Right? The two older boys are in one room. The three youngest share the third bedroom. And, then we have a, "school room."   The problem is; having three separate beds in the littles' room is too crowded. There's no breathing room. They can't play with their toys. It feels claustrophobic.

So, two nights ago I took down Grant's bed, and decided he could sleep with Kennedy until we got our hands on a bunkbed.

Sounds like a great idea in theory. I mean...my grandparents probably had to share a bed with their siblings, right? My little brothers and sisters sure did. I did! (Although I happened to be smooshed in age between an older brother and a younger brother...I got my own room in quite a few houses. Haha. Sucks to be you, younger-Sarah-siblings!)

Copious amounts of fighting insued. "She's touching me!" "No! HE'S touching me!" "KEN-NEDDY! You gotsta scoooot o-ber!" "Grant, you are too hot! Get on your side of the bed...now!"

*smack* *SMACK!* *Wahh* *Waah*
You get the picture.

Tonight I decided Grant should just sleep with me.

This boy can cause thunder storms in our house in seconds. He is loud. Devious. Has the attention span of a flea. Did I say he was loud? He can be consuming to everyone around him. In other words: he's pretty much like all three-year-olds I've known.

However... I had forgotten how tender, precious, sweet, imaginative, silly, entertaining and awesome he can be.

Tonight we laid in bed and turned our tickled buttons on and off (that would be your nose), talked about how many different kinds of Spidermans there are (three, in case you didn't know), discussed his favorite movies,  I was then quizzed on them, and asked to repeat them verbatim forwards and backwards.  His imagination is brilliant. His little body curled and spooned next to mine brought me absolute peace. I could have died a happy woman tonight...listening to my son jabber sleepily into slumber. He reminded me why this job is so amazing. He calmed every fiber of my being. He gave me hope...

I forget that my babies grow in phases. They ebb and flow. Their love language's develop and change. Grant's closeness now makes me really excited for Ray's next stage. Not to hurry up and be over with where she's at right now...but just excited that everything's not set in stone. Grant wasn't all that much of a cuddler as an infant.  I know that the pendulum tends to swing away...and then come back. Even if she ends up being less than crazy about touch. I'm gonna keep trying. I'm going to keep making, "physical touch deposits" in her little bank. I don't know yet all that is in store for our relationship.

And for once...that doesn't fill me with fear.

That makes me happy.

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