I have this thing where I like to go into the moosh’s room at night and rock her while she’s sleeping. Kind of like that “Love You Forever” book but without all the creep. (Because that book creeped you out too didn’t it? Just a little bit? With the old lady and the grown man?) Anyway.
the moosh has not fallen asleep on me or in my arms in two years. TWO YEARS. The only chance I have to snuzzle that little sleeping ball of curls is when she’s already asleep. Trying to snuzzle an awake four year old will only end with a foot to your crotch and a knee to your neck.
Two nights ago I snuck in to hold my little kid. I picked her up, held her close and took a good long whiff of her lavender scented hair.
She sat up, looked at me, looked at her pillow, looked at me, pushed me away and curled back up on her pillow with her back to me.
And then I cried.
I have no little sleeping bodies left in this house to snuzzle. Sure I have Cody, but between the chest hair tickling my nose and the sounds and/or smells he emits while sleeping? Well…we’ll just leave it at that.
I’ll tell you what, when I get to heaven I’m going to be sitting God down with a nice frothy mug of Hot Cocoa and I’m not leaving until I figure out his curious sense of irony and humor.
(Dear God, That is not an invitation to get me pregnant with octuplets. One at a time is good for me. Okay? xoxo-Casey)