The house is steamy in this May heat wave but everyone is asleep so I’m content. It’s bad that I look forward to all three of them being asleep every night, right? But as it happens, as each of the three go down, and the last one’s finally quiet -  it’s like I can finally take a deep breath, unfettered.  I may only have an hour or two of breathing deeply, contentedly. But I enjoy them. Before I fall asleep myself.

§

We bought those wooden Ikea bunk beds ages ago -  I think when Oliver moved out of his crib, actually. But we have always had them built as two single beds. Since we moved to this house last July, Oliver and Callum have been sharing a bedroom. They insisted on it; we didn’t argue because they often ended up sleeping together in one bedroom or the other anyway. Except it’s been playtime and hijinks and too many giggles and not enough sleeping and a lot of frustration and empty threats. A suggestion from Oliver’s teacher that perhaps he had lost his attention span because he was so tired was just enough impetus to get us to convert the spare room/office to Oliver’s new bedroom. He’s now sleeping in a queen size bed surrounded by boxes of papers and junk. But at least he’s sleeping.

As part of the separation and transformation, I suggested that we also build the bunk beds in Callum’s room as they were meant to be. So that if we do have a house guest that needs the bigger bed, the boys can bunk together, and we can reclaim the floor space. No one has actually slept on the top bunk yet. Well, except the stuffed animals. It turns out that a bunk bed, depending on the day of the week, is a double-decker bus, a pirate ship, a prisoner transport vehicle and something-er-other from Star Wars. A bunk bed is not for bedtime. It’s for playtime anew.

§

Mark is away which means I have a whole bed to myself and total control of the covers (although tonight there is no need for covers in the steamy city). Woo hoo! I could sleep diagonally if I wanted to! Except there will be a baby that stirs around 4am as he does every night and I will collect him and attempt to feed him as I sit up with my eyes closed and we’ll both nod off like this. And instead of putting him back in his crib, I’ll lie down with him curled around me, and we’ll both snooze some more. And around 7am, he’ll pull my hair or poke me in the face and smile and just like that there’s another day ahead of us.

Related posts:

1. The shoe just dropped about a foot, I figure
2. Rules to live by
3. By the flicker of the television light
5. Culprit