It’s funny how daily life seems, and then suddenly, it’s a year or two later, and I can’t even remember those details that I thought would make up my life for the rest of forever. You know? Like, Jameson used to toddle around after me? I tripped over him for a year, maybe more, and now I can’t even remember what it was like. He’s a long-legged, independent, running all over the house with hardly a dull moment 4 year old, you know.
So, for my own memory’s sake, a snapshot:
This is how our nights go, every single night after night. We tuck two boys into their matching twin beds, read a story, and sing “Angels We Have Heard on High” and “Jesus Loves Me”. We pray, remind them not to get off their beds, cry, or continually call for Mama. We leave — and they either get off their beds, cry, call for Mama, or all of the above simultaneously. My little night owls are usually sound asleep by 9pm, when I slip back in and cover them with the quilts they’ve already managed to kick off. Their little arms are always wrapped around a favorite stuffed animal — Jameson loves Baxter the bunny, and William loves Puppy. Their faces are always sweeter than I remembered from the night before, and my heart always catches. They are perfect.
Hours later, Ryan and I are asleep. Somewhere between 2 and 4am, little footsteps wake Ryan and then me. William somehow manages to safely make his way to my side of the bed, in spite of the fact that I never remember to NOT throw pillows all over the floor when I get into bed. I pull him up between us, and he’s already fast asleep. We sleep.
Until William works his way to his favorite sleeping position: horizontal. The three of us make a lovely H, and we manage, until. Until he starts head-butting Ryan’s ribs and kicking mine. Ryan’s out of there. Why would he sleep with a head-butting toddler when there’s an empty twin bed down the hall?
We sleep again.
Jameson climbs into Ryan’s side of the bed around 5 or 6am. Sometimes he falls asleep. Sometimes he proceeds to squirm for an hour or more while I resolutely determine to ignore him and get more sleep. After all, I didn’t go to bed at 8pm, as he did. I was up far too late watching who knows what with Ryan. I do not have 5am wake up times in mind.
But when I can no longer put him off, or he’s driving me completely insane (and making me laugh, too), I slip with Jameson out of my room and we start our day.
And a year from now I’ll read this, and it will seem a foggy memory, at best.
Just like the way William runs with his little shoulders all hunched, and sits at the kitchen table with his little feet dangling and swinging. And the way they giggle and laugh together and follow each other around the house playing soldiers.
I love it.