Snuggling in the morning: a memory
My Darling Husband is a morning person. I am not. He springs out of bed in the morning and heads for the shower before I'm ready to admit that night is over. Through the years we've developed a routine, a little service he performs for me: he brings me a baby.
This started naturally enough with breastfeeding. He would bring me the baby, I'd nurse her (or, later, him) and when DH was done with his shower he'd change and dress the baby while I got ready for the day.
But it continued past breastfeeding: it's just how I wake up in the morning. B. brings me a baby. Sometimes more than one, though I can barely recall the last time my twelve year old came to snuggle with me, and I can't recall at all the last time the teen-ager joined me in the morning (though she'll keep me company at night sometimes.)
My current baby is 6.5 and snuggling is turning into fart jokes and wrestling. It won't be long now before this ends. I'll have had 15 years of snuggling with a baby in the morning, though. It's a little gift I never really appreciated until it's ending.
This started naturally enough with breastfeeding. He would bring me the baby, I'd nurse her (or, later, him) and when DH was done with his shower he'd change and dress the baby while I got ready for the day.
But it continued past breastfeeding: it's just how I wake up in the morning. B. brings me a baby. Sometimes more than one, though I can barely recall the last time my twelve year old came to snuggle with me, and I can't recall at all the last time the teen-ager joined me in the morning (though she'll keep me company at night sometimes.)
My current baby is 6.5 and snuggling is turning into fart jokes and wrestling. It won't be long now before this ends. I'll have had 15 years of snuggling with a baby in the morning, though. It's a little gift I never really appreciated until it's ending.