This morning I heard the recently familiar, tell-tale sign that Liam had woken up. scritch-scratch, scritch scritch. His fingernails are the first thing to move when he begins his rise from deep sleep to consciousness. It’s my first wake up call and I keep my eyes closed knowing I might be able to squeeze out another minute, maybe two.
This particular morning, at this particular moment, I am nestled inbetween Husband and Liam in our king-sized bed. Husband and I take up about a quarter of that space and the baby is leisurely sprawled out on the remaining three-quarters of the bed. I’m laying on my side, my body a crescent around Liam’s. My body is starting to be aware of its wakeful state and my neck is stiffly scrunched into my shoulders.
I minutely slit my eyes open and peer through my lashes to see if Liam had raised his head yet. heh heh. He is propped up on his elbows and peering through his early morning eyes reminding me of a blind shrew squinting into daylight. I can see the process that it takes for his eyes to focus on me, like twisting the lens of a manual SLR camera. (Remember those??) Even though my eyes are still slits, because they appear to have gained 500 pounds throughout my frequently interrupted night, I force my mouth to lift in a smile so that he knows Mommy is not being completely neglectful.
Liam’s squinty eyes fold into a million wrinkles as his face opens into a gummy, smiling response. Seeing how happy he is to wake up and have me be the first thing he sees made me feel guilty for not putting in more effort to open my eyes, so I exude as much strength into lid-lifting as possible.
Liam has started scootching determinedly towards me and flops himself, seal-like, with his head propped up on my arm near the nook of my neck. He nuzzled in and I can see that his face is pure bliss. I let the coziness and sleepiness wash over my body and I succumb to the weight of my eyelids again.
My groggy brain almost didn’t register what he was doing when I felt his pudgy fingers groping my cheek. I peered through my eyelashes again, just as Liam lifted his wobbily head and stretched his neck, with an open mouth, toward my face. The hand on my face pressed in, pulling me closer to him.
I think he’s trying to kiss me! I leaned my lips towards his face and kissed all over his cheeks and lips. His eyes practically rolled back in his head with happiness and he laid back down on my arm. As soon as I stopped with my peckings and let my head fall back down onto the pillow Liam pressed his hand onto my cheek again and raised his face expectantly.
How my cup doth runeth over(eth). What kind of lucky girl am I to have my 5 month old snuggling and kissing me in the morning?