Cosleeping

I can feel you snoring. I can't hear it because the air conditioner, air purifier and white noise (why do we bother?) are all whirring louder than you, but I can feel the low grumble in your chest.

You've got one leg in your swaddle and one leg out. It's the way your daddy does it. Both arms are in though- it's the itchy kid way.

I never really wanted to co-sleep. But you've been up every hour for more nights than I'd care to count. So tonight we will snuggle. Or you will. I'll just be over here sweating and contemplating exacly where my arms are supposed to go.

In a strange way I love just how awkward this scene is, because the awkward is equally and beautifully partnered with the feeling that this is exactly right- a natural fit, you and I. 

I hope you sleep well and maybe let me get a few winks in a well. But if you don't, that's ok too. I like our 2 am chats and the silly half grin that parts your pursed lips as you blissfully drift back to sleep. I'll take an awkward and sleepless night just for that sight. But I'll also take a full night sleep too. You pick.