Wednesday, November 27, 2019

Lost, lost, lost...

Alexander climbed into bed with us last night, as he does most every night. He's more or less trained now to just lie still and go back to sleep (without even asking for milk) so we're all getting a lot more sleep around here than we used to. Anyway, some time after he joined us in bed and we'd all fallen back asleep, I was woken up by Alexander stirring.

At least, I was pretty sure that's what it was. Sometimes I'm not quite aware what's going on when I first wake up.

I reached over to pat him and shush him, but he wasn't there. He was crawling around.

"Baby, where are you?" I whispered into the dark. I could still sense him crawling around. "You're going to crawl off the bed!" I warned.

I lunged toward the foot of the bed to grab him but still couldn't find him anywhere. I was just wildly feeling around in the dark. By this point he had begun to fuss. "Momma! Momma!" I kept feeling around for him. Then, finally, I grabbed him, way over on Andrew's side of the bed, about to fall off the foot of the bed, had it been possible to do so...but it wasn't because he was under the covers (and the sheets were tucked in tight).

He'd been crawling around deep inside our sheets for who knows how long!

So I ripped the blankets off Andrew (sorry, honey), grabbed Alexander, and settled him down in the middle of the bed (where he believes he belongs).

It doesn't sound all that crazy now that I'm typing it out, but it felt pretty wild for 3:00 in the morning!

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