After what was a pretty regular routine of AJ sleeping in his own room, the dear and patient wife and I are now faced with a beast between us every night. Most times, we just agree to let hm start out there, both of our tired souls wanting to avoid the tantrum that comes with refusal. Or we give in to our own parental need to have our son need us, his want to be with us, even in slumber. Others, we convince him that Big Boys really aren't scared by themselves at the other end of the hall, and lull him to sleep, illuminated by his Cardinals night light. At least until he wakes up during the night and again makes his way between us, dooming us both to a night of cover fights.
See, AJ doesn't like to be under the covers. It's instinctual. He's dead asleep when he kicks his legs, like riding an imaginary bike, sending the blankets toward the foot of the bed. He then lays there, splayed out, legs akimbo like a frog's, or an exhibitionist's. Meanwhile, one, or both, of his parents are scurrying for the comforter, trying to shove his legs back in, admonishing this sleeping "innocent" and just plain trying to get back to sleep.
Lately, I've taken to turning him sideways, creating a family "H' with him as the crossbar, if one that is slightly high. That way, he's out from the blankets, and the dear and patient wife and I can pull them to our upper arms, at least. The problem with this, of course, is that when he gets on his dream Schwinn, the kicking is aimed at one of us. I took a pretty nasty one in the jaw the other day.
It doesn't seem to bother him that he's cold. Many times, I've awakened to find him curled fetally on top of the bedspread, shivering. I dutifully put him back where it's warm, which he typically rejects within 15 minutes. It's a nightly battle.
He snores, too.
When my alarm went off this morning, extra early since I have a little more on my plate today, I groaned and whacked the snooze button. I rolled over determined to get the most out of my extra 9 minutes, but ran smack into AJ, legs spread like a cheerleader in mid-jump. I eased the blanket over him and tucked his offending appendages inside. He stirred, mumbled something pertinent to his faraway dream, and shifted toward me. He ended up perfectly formed to my chest, his warmth and breath washing over me. I closed my eyes and for 8 minutes, life was perfect.