the sleepy house

Thursday, October 3

All things considered, I'm a pretty decent sleeper. Do I wake up with a comparatively small portion of the bed to call my own every morning? Yes, but it works for me. I don't really sleep with pillows anyway because of neck things, so imagine if you can, my husband, the middle sleeper, with his five pillows. And then me, the side sleeper with none. I move farther away to spread out, get some space, and inch by inch Tyson makes sure that there is as little space between us as possible. This is basically our routine every night. Somewhere in this current transition from age one to two, Everett has been having a few moments of distress when it comes to sleeping at night/taking his naps during the day and hasn't let himself sleep unless I'm holding him. In some respects, this has been a total dream come true. In other respects, obviously it hasn't. But he's so very very big and busy now, I completely relish those moments when I get to soothe him to sleep and brush his hair and hold his heavy, deeply breathing body. The other night was one of those nights. He woke up in the middle of the night and after several tries to get him back down, I just decided to bring him in bed with me. Tyson was over the moon about this, to say the least. No sarcasm! Everett co-slept with us until he was 9-months-old and Tyson and I both have some of the sweetest memories from that experience. Tyson misses it. And I did. I REALLY did. Until, out of sheer desperation, we tried it again that night. Tyson, me and the now much, muuuuch bigger than a 9-month-old baby boy, all squished up in our queen sized bed. It was Tyson and his five pillows on one side {OK so maybe it wasn't FIVE, but a solid three probably}, and Everett star-fished out on the other, both deeply breathing in heavy sleep. I was in the middle, not a drop of sleep in sight, but not daring to move an inch for fear of waking Everett again for another round. I'm not often awake in the middle of the night, so it's not often that I'm there to witness our sleepy house. Our small room, lit dimly by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. The cooler, crisper air from outside, lightly breezing in and making our blankets seem cozier and the dreaming people next to me seem warmer. It was the sound of sleep. Crickets and breathing. I felt grateful to be there, wide awake at some morning hour, smashed between my two sleepy guys, getting to observe the peace of that night and have a portion it settle around me and feed into my tired body. Thankfully Everett has been able to sleep in his own bed since then. For whatever reason I still haven't been sleeping that well lately, most nights only snagging a few hours or so, but when I'm not sleeping, and between the moments of being annoyed that I'm not sleeping, I do love being present in that moment. Listening to our sleepy, dreaming house, knowing that those I love are comfortable and warm, and treasuring the dark quiet before the sun lights up a new day.


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