After watching some TV with the hubby last night, we retreated to our temporary sleeping arrangements--he in the guest room and I in our bedroom. I am on Day 3 of the flu and separation is to keep him well. Honestly, he eagerly moved to the guest room after he slept next to me Wednesday night in all my sweaty, fever-crazed rambling hotness. I woke up smelling like a gym bag full of dirty socks. RETREAT!
This idea was fantastic during the hallucinatory phase of the illness. I tossed and swatted and yammered so much no one next to me could have slept. Last night I began to miss him. After reading nearly all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Last Tycoon and forty rounds of solitaire I could not settle down. I got up nearly ten times, walked to the guest room door, then walked back to our bedroom. Except for now it is my bedroom. The change of ownership caused insomnia.
I could not go to Iris's room, kiss her gently on the cheek, reposition her horizontally on the bed and tuck her in. I couldn't watch her sleep a couple of minutes, think as I do every night She is the most gorgeous and audacious little girl. I am so lucky to be her Mommy.
Iris's stillness before I turn in. Nathan's deep, slow breathing as I settle down. His arm wrapped around my waist as I doze off. Small things I don't stop to appreciate until they are taken away. The ritual comforts. The irreplaceable.