My Real Life

I made a comment the other day, on Facebook, to a woman I work with who is much younger than I.  She mentioned that she woke up at 4:45 am each day and I said that she needed to sleep in because those of us who have kids that wake up at the crack of dawn need to sleep in vicariously through our friends that don’t.

She laughingly apologized and then said “Yeah, but we don’t have a kid to snuggle with at 6:30!”

She makes a point.

Around 4:30 am, every single morning, Monkey in the Middle wakes up.  He comes downstairs, very quietly so as not to wake the other monkeys.  He thinks I don’t hear him, but I hear him the minute his feet hit the floor in the bedroom above me.  I’m a master of the “Mom sleep.”  Dead to the world until one of my monkeys makes the slightest sound.

Monkey in the Middle stealthily climbs into our bed, and snuggles in between Real Man and I. 

It is my favorite time of day.

Monkey in the Middle is not necessarily built for snuggling.  He is all bones, elbows and sharp angles.  There isn’t an ounce of fat on that kid.  And yet, he’s the biggest snuggler I’ve ever seen.

I love when he snuggles in.  He nuzzles up against me and slowly falls back to sleep for another hour of dozing.  I love the feel of his little legs as they gently jerk as his mucles relax and his little head rubs against the pillow and up against my arm.

I don’t fall back to sleep again after he comes into our room.  At least not any meaningful type of sleep.  However, I can’t turn him away.  I realize that someday, probably soon, there will be no more snuggling.  And while I realize that is completely developmentally appropriate, I mourn that loss in advance.

So, for now, I’ll take my 4:30 snuggle sessions with Bony Magoo (another name for Monkey in the Middle).  Rachel was right…it’s way better than sleeping ’til 10.