This past weekend, we traveled to Virginia to meet up with Jim’s brothers and their wives plus one nephew and another babe on the way, plus his mom, aunt, uncle and grandmother. It was nice to see everyone, especially since we won’t be traveling this holiday season due to baby #2’s arrival. There’s a picture of Molly with her cousin Wrigley that I will have to post, but I think it’s on Jim’s phone, so I’ll have to track that down.
The three of us were sharing a room and we brought blankets to create a pallet for Molly to sleep on, but as expected, she wanted none of that. She also didn’t want us to leave her when we tucked her in. You would think I would have embraced a 9 pm bedtime, but that would have only been if she had let me sleep. At one point, Jim and I were hanging on for dear life on the edges of the queen size bed while Molly sprawled horizontally across the bed.
She had a fever and what we now know is bronchitis, so her sleep was restless at best. Non-existent at worst.
On Saturday night, I thought she had fallen asleep, so I tried to slip out of the bed to get some water and visit with my brothers-and-sisters-in-law. As I was slowly sitting up, Molly slid her hand up my arm, grabbed hold of me just above the elbow and said, “Gotcha.”
I could hear the grin in her voice.
“Lay down Mom.”
And all night long, she maintained a grip on me. My arm, my shirt, even my ponytail at one point. As uncomfortable as the nights were, I loved how needed she made me feel in this time of testing boundaries and exerting independence.
Life with Sweet Peaches 