Cuddling With Elbows

Since he first learned to repel down his crib son has been trying to sneak into our beds. We often heard the padding of tiny feet hitting the hardwood floors around 2 or 3 AM. Followed by a tentative tap on our arms, or he might even just sneak in from the foot. When he got a bit older it became his habit to slide in next to me the second husband got into the shower in the morning.

All of which sounds so incredibly sweet, and is. I love the feeling of his warm little body. Love that he still wants to cuddle with me at age 7 and want to grab every chance I can to soak it up. The thing is son can not stop moving his body. He is in perpetual motion. Spinning, kicking, flexing, stretching - since he was in my belly the boy has performed high karate in his sleep. I remember spooning husband so he could feel son kick him in the back when I was 8 months along. Or swaddling son up as tightly as we could and watching him do the worm across his crib inside the snug blanket.

And son has also inherited husband's lean, angular frame. So he's all sharp angles and points and snuggling has become this exercise in love and pain avoidance. Trying to find a way to lovingly pin him down so I don't find my arms and legs spotted with bruises later in the day. Or when he was younger keeping him from spinning like a top all night and ending up with a face full of foot. Cuddling with son is sort of a cross between the sweetest feeling on earth and conducting a WWF wrestling match on our queen size Serta.

It's only now as he is in school all day do I find myself daring to stretch out into a fully relaxing sprawl. Though husband has often seen me pull into a fetal position when I hear a loud noise, an instinct leftover from the days of the toddler boy tackle. Many a time I was bleary eyed on the couch watching morning TV when I would see son out of the corner of my eye, squatting like a monkey on the arm rest of the sofa. He would grin and then launch himself through the air towards whatever body part was an open field. Oof! And then laughter.

I hope he always wants to hug his mom and that I remember to appreciate that he still wants to climb into the warm space I made for us in our bed. (Though I admit I look forward to some muscle and fat padding the blows.) But right now...I'm going to go lie on the sofa and streeetch out my unprotected belly. Ah. Let's hope he didn't show daughter his tackle moves.