We will live to regret this

images3 Sleep is a rarity these days. Our girl Wonder Twin is experiencing teething pain with a vengeance, which causes her to screech epically. She holds our attention at a volume and pitch of such great heights, our little Axel Rose, our teeny Ozzy Osbourne. I half-expect a neighbor to call 911. These past few nights, I mentally prepare for the disruption by cop.

This is what has inspired a rash of midnight visits from First Son, who insists on spending the rest of the night in our bed. We are too tired to object. Typically, he is a restless visitor. His head is like a pillow-seeking missle. Without the pillow landing, he spends the night looking for rest, half-conscious. He moves, alternating between kicking his father me. It’s like sharing a bed with a break dancer when they’re doing–what’s that move? The one where they spin on their back and their legs whip around, splayed like half a helix in a DNA ladder? But when he finds a pillow, his body knows whats to do and the three of us actually sleep. This is a bad habit. When i tell husband we should escort our visitor back to his own quarters, he says “but I like seeing him when i open my eyes.” So we’re keeping him…for now.

The other day, I took him with me to retrieve the laundry in the basement. When I pressed “B” in the elevator, he said “mom, we go to the Beautiful Basement,” clearly practicing his B words. The unexpected pairing cracked me up.

I hope we are creating some fond memories for this one, because he sure is creating them for me.

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