It's what I heard this morning at 5 am.
Mama. Mama. Mama, I cold.
Nothing can stir me awake faster than a call for "mama." Like, awake awake. It's such a blessing (and tiring) to be "mama."
I went and covered him back up and held his hand, but he wouldn't let me go. So up he went and this big ol' preggie carried him downstairs to get in bed with us. He carried one lambie and told me to get the rest of his "a lot of lambies." It's always the wrong and right decision. I never get him far enough into our bed. So I morph my body to his and attempt to not fall off the side. He tosses and turns. And snuggles his head up under mine. It's the most uncomfortable sleep--ever. I lay there in fear of moving for he will be AWAKE at 5 am. And by "sleep" I mean... I'm fully awake. My mind racing with all the things I need to do, and wondering how many more times I have to snuggle like this.
He asked if we could have a snack on the way down the stairs. Which made me laugh.
Then began the "snuggling."
Mama. It's the best.