A space to reflect on my readings and musings, scattered and rescattered



Okay, so I'm eating my words and almost taking down my previous blog post because I really fell in love with those little babies BUT not until midnight. Weird right, I adored them AFTER they woke up from their sleep and kept me up half the night. Their late night needs and antics made me more aware of their humanness (not that pooping isn't human, those little poop machines). Alex (age 2) had a cough that I kept hearing on the baby monitor and he finally woke himself up about midnight with a mini-meltdown. He wanted his momma and he wanted to be comforted, to be held. Dammit, I feel like being held and comforted sometimes too. Sometimes I also wake up thirsty and freezing cold. It sucks and it'd be great to have someone take care of that for me! Sheesh, yes, sometimes I wish my momma would just come do things for me again. Dinner? Laundry? Our needs change (sometimes) but we all still like to be taken care of sometimes.

The mini-meltdown part woke up a sleeping JoeJoe (age 1) who was fussy for a few minutes and then smiley. Within a half hour, we were all three sacked out on the sofa comfortable, snuggled, bellies full of whole milk (well, and one chamomile tea). When I tried to put JoeJoe back in his crib, he'd wake up and cry out. He was totally playing me, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it because I wanted the other 2 to stay sleeping. So he got his way, over and over again. He woke up every time I tried to put him down. He'd whine until I picked him up and then he'd just smile, cause he knew he'd won. It was pretty damn funny, and to be honest, I really liked just holding him on the sofa and dozing off as he slept, spoiled and happy.

What does this mean? I have no idea. I think, for now, I'll stop analyzing.


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