Sometimes I miss my little boy at night. I often go in, as I'm sure many parents do, and check on him after he is sleeping. I make sure he's ok, and covered up, and it's not too hot or cold. And I kiss him.
For a very long time, Beckett could ONLY sleep in his own bed. We were deliberate about putting him in his own room from day one, so he grew used to his space and if we ever needed to share a bed, NOBODY was getting sleep. He just wouldn't. For the most part, we were really grateful for that, but there is an element of "he'll only be this big for so long" that makes you want to soak up extra snuggle time on occasion.
Recently, he's started coming in early in the morning and climbing in next to Brian. And even more recently, since Brian is traveling a lot, he's asked to sleep in our bed a couple times.
It's. So. Sweet.
Sometimes he'll reach over and hold my hand. Or sometimes he'll scoot really close and put his tiny arm around my neck. I love his snuggly self! Two nights ago, he crawled over and gave me an Eskimo kiss and then turned around to return to his spot. I can't even. The melting!
So last night, at midnight, I missed my little boy. So this crazy-pants mom went in and pulled a sleeping toddler out of his bed and transferred him into bed with me. Couldn't help it. I missed him.
Overall, I prefer that he sleeps in his bed. I like my space and I'm glad he likes his. But I also want to remember to embrace and cherish moments like these.
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