You snore. You get that from me – apparently, I don’t believe I snore but apparently I sound like a train breaking down, so if that’s to be believed then you take after me. You’re currently curled up in the foetal position, all 80cm of you managing to take up a considerable amount of bed space with your tiny frame. Though I put you sleeping on the pillow next to me, you’ve curled over so your foot is in my rib, your body stretched out across the rest of the bed, meaning that when I lie down, my head is aligned with your nappy. I pray for a peaceful night.
Blonde curls cascade down the back of your head, apart from that one part (again, like me) that refuses to sit right or come fully untangled and stay that way. Those curls get you out of a lot of trouble, as does your shocked expression paired with an “Uh Oh” or an overly theatrical “oh no!”, as if expecting people to think you’re merely an innocent bystander, certainly not the mess maker. Your little fists are clutching the sheet as you try to kick off the covers. Determined and confused, the life of a toddler.
I look at you now the way I wish I could always look; the complete adoration, the “how the hell did I manage to make this perfect little boy”. I think all the nice things, of how much I love you, of how much you have changed my life and changed me for the better. I think about the soft skin of your cheek and the hand that pulls my arm around your sleepy body for a tight cuddle at night time for reassurance. It’s not always like this. Days get stressful. We get tired, hungry, grumpy. You’re impatient and stubborn and so am I – neither of us willing to give in or willing to compromise. There are raised voices, loud “No!”s, tantrums and sighs. I find myself counting the bloody seconds down until bedtime, until you’re asleep like this, smiling sweetly as you nuzzle the pillow.
In the morning I will beg for five minutes more mercy; five more minutes under my warm duvet without some slaps and shoves or a bounce on my head. The assault led by my cherubic ninja is all forgiven with a cheeky smile or a rare “big kiss” – to say I’m wrapped around his little finger is an understatement.
No matter how hard the days are; I live for the moments like this, just watching my blonde babe snoring, snuggling, at peace.