I hear the door down the long hallway as it clicks and creaks open. I know he is coming after he stops at the bathroom to tinkle.
And he does, his feet literally pitter-pattering down the hall. Next he is right by the bed and my tired ears hear him, “Mommy, can I snuggle?”
I mutter “yes” in my sleepiest state and wish that he would just climb in without question and that the door did not click and creak to wake me. I wish I could just SLEEP for hours straight.
But for the last week or so every child has been in our bed at some point during the week, at some point during the night. Even Ben, who I woke up next to one morning, guessing it was Gavin but I was wrong. Thankfully HE just climbed in.
And then Katie comes in too, begging for breakfast with her best whine backing her pleas. And I just want to lay there, tired and wondering how morning arrived so fast again. She climbs in and hugs me for a bit and then sits up and says again, “I want breh-fast!”
On Saturdays, we “sleep in” until 7:30 or 8. And they all bound on our bed nagging about when we will get up. “Please get up!” Their dad and I snuggle in close together and tease that we are staying in bed all day and tell Ben to make breakfast and he laughs and says, “No, you have to make breakfast!” And Gavin gets jealous of the adult closeness and climbs between, clinging to my torso like his life depends on it.
And then we tickle and giggle and give in to their requests figuring we have to feed them at some point.
I know I should enjoy these days when we still all fit in the bed and when our kids still WANT us first thing in the morning. I know I should grab onto them and hold them the tightest because someday they will not come running in or asking to snuggle. But sometimes? I just want to sleep.