Shrinking Spaces

It may be because I didn't sleep long enough this morning. It may be because of this raging headache I've had for the last five days. Maybe it is because I haven't eaten anything. Perhaps it is because my children like to put their half eaten special green pancakes on a cabinet (where the dog can reach them and then try to wolf down) instead of putting it in the trash. I may just be feeling a little peeved because no one else in this house knows how to do laundry or clean. Whatever it is today, I am simply in a horrible mood.

I woke up FAR too early for a Sunday morning. I was exhausted after a very long and psychically demanding day at work yesterday. I wanted to crawl into my bed and at my personal discretion, either curl up tight into a tiny little ball of leave me the fuck alone or spread out wide, extending arms and legs, letting my sore muscles elongate and stretch out. Instead, I had crazy dreams and was a pile of sweat and the work days full face of makeup. At some point early this morning, I had my usual visitor(s). I woke up sandwiched between a barricade of pillows my husband put up and the constantly moving body of my nine year old. There was no place for my body to go. My arms were trapped, forced to either raise above my head stiffly, come down by the sides of my body in a stiff military style, or simply be removed to make room for the many bodies in my queen sized bed. My hands fell asleep, my elbows ached. The Whirling Dervish next to me was clearly working on her dance moves and the fact that my prone body was in her way was of no concern. The second child entered the room looking for a position in this Cuddle Factory. Upon seeing that the Inn was indeed too full, he left and I breathed an uneasy sigh of relief. I couldn't possible manipulate my body in a way that would except a fourth body into my increasingly shrinking bed. Did I mention the cats were in there as well? My husband (who was barricaded safely off from the Juggernaut next to me) got up and was quickly replaced with our overweight and extremely flatulent dog. Good sweet Jeebus, will this torture ever end? I decided to exit this Den of Iniquity and start my day, sore and tired and very much in need of more sleep.

Green pancakes were made in celebration of St. Patrick's Day. Bacon was consumed in celebration of it being Sunday and the fact we actually had time to oven bake said bacon. I wanted to sit on the couch and do my internet stuff (why yes I WILL pin 17gazillion pictures of furniture made of pallets thank you oh so very much!!). I wanted to drink eight cups of coffee while I think about getting on the treadmill. I wanted to nestle up in my favorite corner of the couch, ALONE, and think as to whether going to Ikea today was the best or quite possibly worst idea ever. I did none of this things because my sweet dear child saw me alone, completely untethered, on the couch and decided that this was really very much unacceptable. I was immediately set upon and her small body were attached to me in a way that  can only be compared to a parasite clinging for to its life onto its host's body. We clearly must be touching at all points of the body. Arms must be in twined and wiggling while connected is mandatory. Hands should slide in and out of this embrace and little fingernails that are in an almost desperate need to be cut shall scrape the tender inside of my upper arm. Sweet words of love will be exchanged and deep sighs of contentment will flow softly out of the babes mouth. She will take over the Pinterest page and read emails, ask questions about paying bills, and tell me to stop scrolling over the news so quickly because she thought she saw a dog (and she did see a dog and the dog was busy mauling a child so no, I will not stop scrolling so fast over that picture). She will ask to look at more animal pictures and become oh so disappointed when I go over to the Ikea website. The other child will now see the massive cuddle sesh and try to horn his way in between she and I, only to be quickly stopped by her now iron grip she has on my arm. I am looking flooring on the Ikea website I tell him and he shrinks away in both disgust and dismay. The girl gives a smirk of absolute victory and squeezes me tighter, all while digging her too long and must be cleaned finger nails into my triceps. I can take this no more! Please, I plead, PLEASE! For the love of all that is sacred and holy, please give me a little space. Please go snuggle on your father. Please let me have my own space, my own skin. I want to sit here and check out textiles, clutch my coffee, regret not washing my face before I passed out last night, plan out activities for what it turning out to be the longest day in history, and think about what to feed you people for dinner in peace. I need space. 

I know there will be a day, probably in the not too distant future, where my children will shrink away from my embrace and be disgusted at the mere thought of sitting, snuggling, on the couch for two plus hours while we watch Harry Potter. The oldest will be ten this summer and the younger one has already forbade me from kissing him in public (much too embarrassing!!). I know I will miss these moments as I gaze back longingly on them, adjusting the rose colored glasses so that the memories are moments of sheer perfection. I won't remember her dirty fingernails raking the sensitive skin so that it starts to tingle painfully. I won't remember the pimple sprouting from the clogged pore on my chin. The image of the dog choking down green pancakes will be replaced with the vision of the dog ignoring the food on the cabinet and behaving so well that I am smug with pride. My husband won't be remembered as sitting on the other end of the couch in his underwear (maybe I will replace him with Nathan Fillion. My Captain, oh my Captain!). My back, feet, arms, and wrists won't be sore but both strong and light.

Moments and memories are fleeting. Childhood is entirely too short. We age everyday we are here on this planet. Taking the time to embrace our loved ones, gaze on our children in wonder, and snuggle, yes snuggle, hard and furious is what makes life great. But also being able to drink my fucking coffee and look up shit on the internet alone is pretty fucking awesome too.