My youngest child is two and a half and has yet to make it through a sleep-over.
This past Friday, there was a plan for him to have a sleepover at their grandparents house with his sister. He was SO excited!
Now, let us rewind just a little.
My littlest one is my little baby. The pregnancy was tough, and he was basically always in danger. His labour was tough, his birth was tough, and he was only 5 pounds when he was born.
Breastfeeding was something that was so important to me, and together we figured it out. It was so rough.
My house was a danger zone, and I was on guard with him right from the very beginning. He lost too much weight coming home from the hospital, and was back at the emergency 1 day later for suspicions of heart troubles.
When I was pregnant, I knew he was my last one. And every moment from not being able to find a heart beat at 13 weeks, til the moment he was born, I believed and felt in my body that this was it for me. I tried to indulge in the pregnancy, and hold onto those precious moments, because I wouldn`t ever experience them again, but, all I wanted was for it to all be over.
There were worries that he would come too early. I spent my 27th birthday in the hospital hooked up to machines. (My birthday is February 18th, his is April 6.)
So, when he was finally born and I got to hold him in my arms, I felt like I never wanted to let him go. I had never seen a baby so small.
Likely, one could say that I`ve babied him. But really, all I`ve meant to do is really indulge in every moment with him. Knowing he was my last, I enjoyed every step of his baby-hood, and am constantly laughing at his mischieviousness in his toddler years.
I suppose I have been more relaxed with him, and certain rules just didn`t seem so important anymore. What matters is that he`s healthy, happy, and learning. I always swore I would not allow one of my children to sleep in my bed, but guess who I wake up next to every morning?
He has taught me that some things are just more important than all the rules and expectations.
Those beautiful moments when I open my eyes and his sneaky smile is already staring at me mean more to me than all the lectures I`ve heard about letting him in my bed. I don`t really let him. He just does.
My last baby… he`s a wild one. But, I`ve come to learn that rather than clip his wings and cage him up, I let him be wild, and teach him when to bring it in a bit. And, mostly, he has taught me that it`s okay to be wild too.
I have done more silly-looking things being his mommy during toddler-hood than I have in my entire life, and I honestly couldn`t be happier.
I have my own rubber boots even, because we LOVE to jump in puddles. We are close. Very close. He knows when I need to eat, or lay down. He can somehow just tell by looking at me. He knows my moods inside and out. Sometimes better than even I.
Our bond is so incredible and beautiful. So, on Friday, when I was told that he`s crying for Mommy, you better believe that I had my boots on and was out the door to get him.
He lasted 3 hours, and it was a beautiful 3 hours for my husband and I. But, he can`t sleep somewhere else. He isn`t ready.
It isn`t about not being comfortable at the house. He`s very comfortable. It`s his second home. It`s that I`m his mama, and when night comes, he likes knowing I am here.
He`s growing, and one day I`m sure he is going to not want to be right next to me. But, for now, I am soaking it all in.
He will make it through a sleepover when he`s ready. Until then, you can find him waking up next to me, with his beautiful eyes sparkling.