Personal Space

I've said that my mom often said, "Never say never."  Because of that, I've often said, "I'll never marry a millionaire."  But alas, I married R instead.  :)  Motherhood has made me eat many of the words I spoke in Life B.C. (Before Children.)  There are a few things though that we've stuck to.  We've never bought the stereotypical soccer mom mini-van.  (In fact, I think we're "downsizing" to a car soon.) We've never had kids sleep in our bed.  (Hotels and camping trips are a different story.)  We've never had to scoop poop out of the tub.  (And at this point, any booty that does will be promptly swatted.)  And until recently, I'd never slept with my kids in their beds at night.  

With Sassy,  I didn't want to start bad habits and send her into future therapy sessions.  So I followed all the "rules."  Like not sleeping with her.  And then Keke came along.  And from day one, she's been a cuddler.  I don't know if it's her personality or the fact that I spent the first few weeks of her life sleeping with her on the couch (so much for rules, huh?) but that little honey badger loves cuddles.       

And me. . . . not so much.  Don't get me wrong:  I love to love on my kids, but in general, it's just not something that's natural for me.  I like my space.  During a movie, I'm fine getting all cozy with my quilt and a bag of popcorn.  I don't need to have R's breath in my face or his foot touching mine as we fall asleep.  (Uggghh, move your foot!)  I think it's the oldest child syndrome.  You should see my younger sisters.  Grown women who STILL lay on my parents' couch together all wrapped up and entwined.  Disgusting.  I would make it about five seconds before declaring, "GET OFF ME."

But there's something about that Stinkus that ropes me in every time.

"Can you way wiff me for just a wittle bit?"

"Will you cuddle wiff me tonight?"

Or the worst:  "I can't seep wiff-out your wuvs!"

And I swear she knows how to make her eyes well up with tears.

I dare you to say "no" to that face. So I pull back her covers and somehow, she cuddles up close enough to me that there's room for the rest of our family in her twin bed.  She WANTS my breath in her face, our legs all entwined and her arms around my neck in a chokehold.  And I have to say, I love it.  I realize that I won't sleep with her forever, that there will come a day that she won't fit cuddled up to my chest anymore, that it's ok to spoil her a little bit.

And then I feel guilty that I've told Sassy "no" for almost seven years.  So I climb in with her one night.  We cuddle for a little bit and then she leans in, pats me on the cheek, and murmurs ever so sweetly, "OK Mom, you can go now."  

Ouch.  Keke, can I way wiff you for just a wittle bit?