I fully accept that this is my own fault, but YOU GUYS.
That's my half of our king-sized bed. And by "my half," I mean, "That couple of inches on the left of the photo? I fit there. Somehow."
I fought and fought and fought to keep Alexis out of my bed, in no small part because she liked to impersonate a helmet. Clearly Mila is most excellent at staying away from my head, but she has to be
And once she is right up against me, she pushes. Her little feet have to be tucked up against her body, which means they have to be tucked up against my body, but her body isn't moving to make space for that. Nope.
I have to move.
The child is doing everything she can to push me out of bed.
And I love it.
Sometimes there is stuff going on and it occupies every inch of my head. Sleep escapes me as I'm overwhelmed by that stuff. Anxiety, anger, blah, blah, blah ... there's a lot. Sometimes it feels like an elephant stomping around in my head. I can't ignore it and I can't shut it off. Except, I figured out a trick.
I focus on those words. I focus on being present in the moment. I focus on the tiny feet shoving me out of bed.
And it's a really fantastic place to be.