I fell asleep on the couch Sunday afternoon after struggling with more GI bug issues. Apparently it’s a county-wide issue. I was blessed with it not once, but twice. Awesome.
Anyway, I fell asleep on the couch Sunday.
I always lie on my side with my legs bent at the knee.
Tucked in that space that my bent legs make, Eddie snuggles himself in and under my blanket to watch a movie quietly.
That is where he always fits, into the space I leave open.
If I am in the chair, he somehow finds his way up there too, even though he has long outgrown being two in that chair. But I can’t kick him out. This chair is where “we” began.
And so he fills any space that is left. His long legs sprawled over my lap, his head finding my shoulder.
When I put him to bed, we read a chapter book–right now it’s Winnie the Pooh. A chapter a night. Sometimes two if he asks really nice because I can’t say no to just one more chapter.
Once the light goes off, and our chatting stops, his breath becomes heavy and regular and he rolls into me, again filling the space.
When I am sitting on the couch, so is he…up against me so close there is no room for space. It’s instinctive to him to fill up any space between us.
When he was an infant, there was a lot of space between us, so much so that I sought help.
That was four years ago.
He was almost a year old.
I spent his whole first year putting distance between us because I was sick. But I didn’t have GI issues. Nope, I had brain issues.
Medication and therapy helped but it was a long road.
Now each time I noticed him right by my side, I smile because he doesn’t remember. He has no recollection of our hard start. What he knows is that his mom is his safe place–his protection from bears in his nightmares, as he says.
What he also doesn’t know is that he is my safe place too.
Every time I look at him I think of how far I have come and how I am so SO lucky to have him as my boy.