The Family Bed

We don’t co-sleep. Well, not officially. Sometimes I fall asleep next to Sabra after she finishes nursing and I used to love watching Brooks sleep when he was a baby, but he’s loud and flails all night long now. But, somehow, he is in our bed more now than ever. See, when Spence gets home from work, they go upstairs to change clothes and wrestle on the bed. Every. Single. Day. And today, I was counting on that intermission because I wanted to do my Pilates. It’s my Bible study night and I knew between dinner and bath time, this was my only window for physical activity – those 20 minutes before I fire up the stove. For some reason, however, I wandered into our bedroom with baby Sabra on my hip and we ended up laying on the bed with our wrestling fellas. And then I found myself watching my gorgeous son – really studying him.

He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. When Forrest Gump says this the first time he sees his son, it always puts a lump in my throat. But Brooks is my Little Forrest and I just sat back with Sabra swimming on my tummy and marveled at him. I watched his floppy auburn hair flip back and forth as he pounced on Spencer. We still laugh that at how now that he can use actual words, he’s started signing “more” – bumping his little fingers together when he really means, Again, Again!

I never got to my Pilates, but there is nowhere else I would rather have been than in our family bed. I would have hated missing those looks Spence and I share when Brooks pounces across the bed like a dog, barely missing his baby sister before he drops his head to plant a wet kiss on her forehead. And how when he gets a little too rough and we hastily shout, “Gentle, Brooks,” he always freezes, then pets her head.

It’s true: Babies Don’t Keep. And this sweetheart who was once my baby is now my little boy.

Pilates, Schmilates. I think I’ll lay in this messy family bed I’ve made (yet continually fail to make) while I have it.

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