lahamacun / lahmajoun / lamajoon

When I sat down to write this, I realized I had no idea how to spell lamajoon. That seems to be the most current American spelling, so we'll go with it. I guess I didn't know how to spell it, because I am also realizing that I have never seen a recipe for it. It's in my blood. And if you must know, currently, it's in my tummy.

Somewhere far beneath five feet stands a little Armenian woman, full of spirit and gumption, whom I call Grandma. When I was a kid, I appreciated her mostly for her endless willingness to scratch my back for hours while I lay on her lap [seriously, the woman could go on autopilot for days]...for her refrigerator which was always stocked with chocolate milk...for the time she'd take to hug me...and for her cooking. That's right. Even at a young age, I appreciated the cooking.

Now I see her for the strength she has, for her love of life, and for her history, which is also partly mine. Oh, and I still appreciate the cooking...though now she has passed the torch to my dad and his brother Ray, who take every opportunity to teach my brother Cooper, my cousin Bethany, and me how to prepare for carrying the torch in the future...and on to our kids, and so on. That's kind of what it's all about I guess.

Lamajoon takes particularly long to prepare. There's mixing, kneading, spreading, baking, and eating, all of which are kind of done simultaneously. It makes for a great time in the kitchen, where cooks and those who come just to eat can laugh and visit together. It's about family as much as it's about food, and that makes it all the more delicious.

I can remember being only a few years old and standing on a stool in my grandmother's kitchen watching her chop onions. That's how I learned that chopping onions is a job for other people who prefer to keep Niagara Falls in New York...and also before I knew about the Pampered Chef Chopper. But I watched her through my flooded, burning eyes anyway, knowing this was special.

It's still special now. I still enjoy taking time to celebrate what makes us us. So I sit here with my full tummy, appreciating the time I had with my family tonight, and happy to share it with my children.
To me, lamajoon means family, no matter how you spell it.

The Fun Stuff

Lately it seems mommy anxiety has stolen the fun from my posts, so today I just wanted to share what we've been up to.

It's been so incredibly hot here so far this summer, we have neglected the P.A.R.K. entirely. I spell it out, as I know just the mere thought of the word makes you know who's ears go up in the next room. The word is so sacred, I save it only for the half way mark between home and there, just in case a surprise lightning bolt falls from the sky, or there's a loud explosion near by. Once I speak the word, there is no turning back. There is just no way to prepare yourself for the rage that would follow, never mind the promises that would have to be made to put an end to the whining for the long unbearable walk home.

Anyway, today I decided we'd pretend it's a breezy 65 degrees outside (we are in the pretending phase of development now anyway), lather up with sunscreen, and head out.

Hailey could not wait to swing.

And apparently, she had also planned this maneuver on the way over to the park. Not only did she insist on scooting instead of walking on the beam, but she also insisted that Kiki did it with her. I know you can't really see Keelyn in this photo, but trust me, she was dreaming of scooting. I could tell by the excessive amount of drool running down my chest.

There was drumming with our friend Tyler...

...and also apparently so much fun, that in one last hurrah (which means tearing around the open area like a maniac, while also squealing in delight), she managed to levitate, as you can plainly see.

As for Keelyn, she's been practicing her favorite new trick...Razz'n', aka Blowing Raspberries, aka making a huge amount of drool fly all over the place.

Good Advice

My friend Megan suggested I look on Ask Moxie for some sleeping advice. This article was a wonderful help to me, so I thought I'd share for anyone else reading and experiencing the same things I am right now.

Hailey was definitely a kid that needed to be held and rocked until she was truly asleep 90% of the time until she was at least a year old. Keelyn falls in the middle. At bedtime, she's tired, and makes it obvious she wants to go to sleep, but also prefers to do so in her crib. She might fuss on and off a few minutes, but it is the sound of a settling baby, and only rarely do I need to visit her to pop the paci back in, or soothe her a minute. Nap time, as I have noted in previous posts, is a bit of a different experience...at least the staying asleep part.

Anyway, Moxie doesn't give any miracle answers to this, but she does validate my feelings about the whole situation. In some cases, crying (in our case, screaming) is not the answer.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to head to the living room where I will peacefully cuddle my baby to sleep, and catch up on some reading. I guess this stuff is only as difficult as we make it.

Tea Time

40 minutes of sleep in the crib. 90 minutes of sleep on me. That's how Keelyn prefers to complete her afternoon nap. I have mixed feelings about changing this, as I absolutely love our time together, but the truth is that she doesn't always get that last 90 minutes without interruption. Also, since the napping gods aren't always working in my favor despite my desperate pleas, the kids' naps don't always coincide, and everyone's time is compromised.

I think I've mentioned how much I loathe letting my kids cry. It's just not in me. I believe in the value of a cry, and I don't care how young they are, or what they might eventually forget. While lots of great parents feel it's important to get their kids on a structured schedule that fits their daily routine, I feel that my kids will dictate (at least to some extent) what they need, and it's my job to be aware of that, and provide it for them within reason. I am home with them after all, and I don't see it necessary to fight what's natural.

They do need structure and predictability, but I just don't believe there is a book or a way that will work for every child just the same. My own kids alone are so different from one another, and they came from the same gene pool. You might be familiar with a technique called Babywise. Andrew calls my operation Crazywise. All of this said, different things work for different families, and I realize that my approach certainly doesn't work for everyone. In this case, it hasn't even been working for us.

So today I decided that I was going to stick it out and let Keelyn get upset in hopes that she would settle down and go back to sleep after the first part of her nap. If you remember, a few days ago the crying ended badly, but since then she has done great going down for naps, so we have made some strides.

With a full belly, a dry diaper, and freshly cut nails, I put her down. She cried. Over 30 minutes, I checked on her repeatedly, and she continued to cry. This is totally against my instinct, but other parents and doctors swear this is the way to do it, so in being honest with myself, I had to give it a go.

After 30 minutes, and serious consideration about calling county human services on myself, I'd had enough, and I believe Keelyn had as well. Hailey was awake during this time, and continually asking about her baby sister, not trusting my wavering "reassurance" that everything was okay. I can't really blame her.

I picked Keelyn up, and she immediately stopped crying. I know this process seems to work for a great majority of western civilization, but apparently both of my children were born with the unique ability to become more energized with crying, rather than fatigued. She was wide awake. I knelt down to let Hailey see her face, and she flashed us both an enormous smile. She was beaming at the sight of her mommy and sister. I got a few tears in my eyes at the sight of it, and out of my own relief that the whole thing was over.

As much as I hate reliving all of that, I had to in order to tell you the really great part of the story. It was Hailey.

Hailey ran into her bedroom, yelling "Wait a minute, Kiki, I be right back!" She came back with her blankie, which she handed to Keelyn with a kiss. Then she looked at me, and said, "Mommy, you come with me." I followed her into her bedroom and sat down. Preparing a cup of tea for me, she said, "Here you go, Mommy, I make you a cup of tea so you can be calmed, too."

Who needs the napping gods. I have my own little angels.

Old enough to Scoot in her Boots

Hours of entertainment. Hours, and hours.

I love how Hailey stops and asks, "You like my song?"...as if Keelyn's constant laughter doesn't answer that alone. Can't you just see the love for Big Sissy in her eyes?

Every girl needs a pair of pretty Red Shoes

A few weeks ago, Nana, Hailey, Keelyn, and I had a girl's day while Andrew played a round of golf. Golf means time with other people who produce testosterone...something that has become quite a treat for Andrew lately. Girly time means just the opposite...inspiration for sparkly shoes.

We were sitting in a diner we frequent waiting for our food, and enjoying one of Hailey's little stories about something I can't remember. It's not important. She stopped talking. Her constant survey of the room zeroed in on one target, and followed it with great intent. Right, left, right, left. The object grew closer. Then it stopped. At the table right next to us sat a pair of beautiful sparkly shoes.

They were on the feet of a big girl. She must have been eight or nine years old. She was wearing a pretty little sun dress, her hair was done perfectly, and of course, there was that pair of beautiful sparkly shoes. Hailey was awestruck.

"Do you like those shoes, Hailey?"

"Muh, huh."

That was about all she muttered for a good five minutes. She just sat at our table, drinking her water, and staring at those beautiful shoes. I knew then and there that when I found the right pair for her, we'd bring those magic shoes home.

Today was the day. Thanks to Fancy Nancy, Hailey now has her very own pair of sparkly shoes. They're a bit big. Just the right size for the big girl she is when she wears them. They didn't come off all evening.

Now they are sitting right beside her bed, where they'll rest up for morning, as they are in store for a good ride.

It's all about the Loot...I mean Boobs

Last weekend was the Race for the Cure. We have participated every year for 6 years now, since my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She has been cancer free since her operation, and we see this event as a great opportunity to celebrate that annually. Plus, the whole thing is a lot of fun.

This year we decided to do the one mile "fun walk" rather than the 5k because we thought maybe Hailey would like to use her legs a bit to participate. Pictured below is my mom with some friends heading up our group. Mom volunteers every year, and got to select her race number, so this year she chose 622 in honor of my grandmother's birthday, who is also a breast cancer survivor.
And here's Hailey. As you can see, she wasn't quite so keen on our walking idea, though we did convince her (after lots of pleading and a little bribery) to take off her cute little dress and replace it with a "little road runners for the cure" shirt. What a princess.

Lucky for her, Keelyn was snuggled up in the sling, leaving the stroller empty for sharing.
Why did she decide not to walk, you might ask? It's because she was exhausted from all of the walking she'd already accomplished. She was busy all morning before the race, collecting free goodies from each and every vendor she could find.

Her favorites have dominated play time for this past week that followed. Here she is with her new "sling" AKA bandanna.
Her all around favorite is the tape measure...good for measuring just about anything that isn't moving.
And, ah yes, the bunny ears. Good for hopping like a bunny, and for some reason, also great for ribbitting like a frog.
Thank you breast cancer warriors, for creating an event so full of inspiration...for those of us old enough to need a kleenex as we appreciate the lives around us and the overwhelming number of women affected by this disease...and for those of us too young to understand, who might just need some new toys once in a while.

15 pounds and 14 ounces of sheer baby

We had to go to the doctor today. This is my second child, and somehow nap training landed me in the pediatrician's office. Well, not somehow, I mean I know exactly how. It has something to do with my miserable ability to read my child's cues...no matter how loud and in my face she may be screaming.

Keelyn will be four months old tomorrow. Her little cat naps aren't cutting it any more. It's been time to get her down in the crib for her good afternoon nap for a while now. Yesterday was a lot like all of my other attempts to date. I put her down asleep, so as to avoid the tears, and 20 minutes later she was awake. I went to get her, and within a few seconds, she was asleep on me...for another 2 hours.

I knew that in order to help her sleep longer, I had to let her settle herself in the crib. Trouble is, I'm really horrible at letting my kids cry.

Read on, I think the Universe is teaching me a lesson.

Today I bit my lips, and we went for a bit of crying. It really wasn't that bad. She was totally fine. Minor fussiness for only a few minutes. She slept a full 45!!! That should have been enough for me, but when I went in to get her after, she was crying with her eyes closed, so I thought maybe she still needed more sleep. I patted her belly a bit, and walked out. I was watching the clock like a hawk. 7 minutes later I went in to check on her, as the crying had severely escalated. I swept her up and saved her from the terror.

Then I noticed the blood gushing all over my shirt and her face. I mean a lot. It was coming from her ear. We went to the doctor, and found out she did not have a ruptured ear drum. Nope. It was not at all the obvious explanation based on a nurse's assessment over the phone. My description of the amount of blood and the amount of crying that went with it could only mean a ruptured ear drum, right? Actually no. Instead she had somehow gotten her finger into her ear canal (beyond where you can see just by looking), and scratched the heck out of it. They had to clean it out with peroxide and give me a prescription antibiotic to use with her for 3 days.

Do you know how pissed you have to be to inflict that kind of pain on yourself to get your mommy's attention?

So there you go. The very first day I let my little angel cry for more than 30 seconds, she has me rushing her to the doctor. She gave me a 45 minute nap, and instead of settling for that, I tried for more. I pushed her too hard, she got too upset, and this happened. She must have been really frustrated.

Seriously. Who hired me anyway?

On a lighter note...she is as chunky as they come. At least I have figured out how to feed her.

Toot Toot

Keelyn was in the car seat on the kitchen floor, and Hailey was sitting right next to her, carefully putting her sandals on the wrong feet. I was preparing waters and a snack so we could go for our usual morning walk.

One of the girls let out quite a loud little explosion of gas.

Hailey giggled.

I asked if it was her.

She said, "No Mommy, dat was Kiki. I wanna wait and have a yitta toot while we on a walk, okay?"

Guess she knows how to save them up for just the right moment. Must have learned that from her dad.

eatin deena on da flo

Us: Hailey, can you please eat your dinner and play with Keelyn when you are done?

Her: *She said nothing. Ignored us completely.

Us: Hailey, just finish up and then you can talk to Keelyn.

Her: Oh, I got it. How bout I eat my deena on da flo so I can talk at her? Okay. Sounds good, Mommy?

Us: *We said nothing, as while we were processing a response, she was working on this:

Love These

No one told me it would be madness

Proper spacing. Any good family psychologist would agree that two and one half to three and one half years apart is ideal for spacing children. Big kid has some independence, but still relates to little kid. Little kid looks up to big kid, but still can be the baby. As they grow, they share friends, interests and activities, but are able to create their own identities.

Hailey and Keelyn are two and one half years apart. And it's two girls, to boot. Two, sweet, innocent, quiet little girls. Perfect. Piece of cake.

An extremely loud, high pitched screech comes from the belly of a toddler as she runs out of the bathroom pantyless at 6:00 a.m. It's like a pteradactyle on crack. Come to think of it, her long, skinny legs are somewhat bird like as they ricochet off the floor at a pace only a flying squirrel can mimic. That's it. She's a pteradacbirrel.

A baby smacks her lips. Smack...smack...smack. It's like a ticking time bomb. I'm trying to get a load of laundry switched from the washer to the dryer. This takes exceptionally long due to the number of stains I must check for. Poop. Spaghetti sauce. Vitamins. Poop. Marker. Poop. Spaghetti sauce. Smack...smack...smack. I can see her head twisting back and forth. She roots for a boob in mid-air as if it will magically and perfectly appear for her, full of warm milk. Maybe it will.

Minutes later the laundry is changed, the pteradacbirrel is clothed, and the baby is fed. BOOM. The kind of boom with loud crackling and squishing sounds to follow. "Mommy, I smell somtin." The lip smacker has pooped. And spit up. I pick her up and carry her to the changing table. Poop leaks onto my hand and runs down my elbow. It defies gravity as it also runs up the smackster's back and threatens to dirty her hair. It's super poop. I consider trashing the outfit and calling it a day. The toddler won't allow it. "Mommy, let's wash, and I can play in the sink. Turn on the water, turn on the water!!!" I do as she commands so as to avoid the loud shrieking sound again. This would be a variety less enjoyable. So much for clean clothed toddler. She will be soaking wet by 6:30. That's right. I'm still not a half hour into my day.

Disclaimer: My children are actually perfect. I just use them for inspiration to write funny stories based on what other parents tell me. My toddler keeps herself perfectly dressed at all times. My baby asks politely to nurse, and waits patiently as I finish chores to do so. Neither child has ever stained an outfit, and their poop smells like roses. It runs in the family.

Finally...Laughter

I'm so happy we finally got this on camera...enjoy!

Babies, Babies, Everywhere

When Keelyn was born, she was in the middle of a 10 week stretch of babies being born in our lives...that is a 10 week stretch with a baby every week. Let's see, there was Elliot, Keelyn, Tripp, Mac, Ellie, Sawyer, Henry, Peyton, Lucy, and Blake. Forgive me if the order is off a bit. 10 weeks in a row of babies born to friends, family, and us. Since then, I have also learned that two friends of mine whom I haven't spoken with in a couple of years, as our lives got busy and we lost touch...have also had babies...in that same 10 week stretch...so now we're up to 12.

This is crazy when I think of it. When I became pregnant with Hailey, I was pretty much the only pregnant person I knew. Or knew well, anyway. Now it's baby madness everywhere I turn. Each one is a blessing to us all.

I don't think I ever shared Keelyn's birth announcement here, so I thought I would now.

And here is Ellie's, as I also designed hers for our dear friends Jen and Fred. Fred and I have known each other since elementary school, and he and Andrew were roommates in college. Jen and I met at the same time she and Fred met; our freshman year of college. We became close friends instantly. It is so special to us to have babies so close in age...only about 6 weeks apart. One of my greatest joys in being a parent is sharing the love I have for my children with friends who feel the same about theirs. It's such an awesome experience, and no one understands it more than those going through it at the same time. To have that with life long friends is wonderful.

I'll add Hailey's here too, just for good measure...I started this blog way too late to catch up on all her baby stuff, though my very first post does a pretty good job of it. Hailey is, after all, half the reason we know a lot of these other babies...most of them have big brothers and sisters.

All I Want to Do

Tonight I cried happy tears more than once.

We were driving home this evening and one of Hailey's favorite songs came on the radio. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw her cute little head rocking back and forth with a big smile across her face. "All I wanna do-oo-oo-oo-oo...," she sings so happily. She totally does Sugarland proud.

We walked in the house well past bed time, so headed straight upstairs for some stories and a cup of milk. She climbed on my lap facing me, and placed her head on my chest. "I love you, Mommy," she said as she closed her eyes. In this I realized story time isn't always about the stories, but rather the closeness before sleep; the chance to hear my voice once more as her body melts from the excitement of the day. It's also a chance for me to feel her breathe against me; to feel the soft skin on her hands hold mine.

It's in moments like these that I realize...All I want to do is love her, and I could sing about it all day long.

Walkin' on Sunshine

I turned down the job offer. I turned it down for a number of reasons.

Reasons one and two:

She Says the Darndest Things

While I was getting dressed this morning, Hailey was running in circles like a mad woman. At the top of her lungs, she yells, "Oy Oy Oy Oy Oy...Stop! (she freezes)...Go!!! (she runs again)...Oy Oy Oy..." Tickled by her enthusiasm, I asked, "Hailey, what are you doing?" She replies, as she catches her breath, "Exercising, Mommy. You need me to teach you?"

We were sitting on the steps putting our shoes on to run out, and she whispers, "Oh, I got an idea." "What's your idea?" Laughing hysterically, she says, "No, no, no, I just jokin'. I not have an idea!"

As I asked her to climb into bed for her nap, she grins and says, "Wait, Mommy, I need to do a somersault first, okay?" How could I say no to that?

Flies

Summer time means flies...occasionally in the house. Very troubling for Hailey. I was just thinking...maybe it would be fun to document a glimpse of what those flies see every day...

Keelyn wakes up about 5:30, nurses, and comes to bed with me until Hailey calls for us about an hour later. Lately, Hailey likes to come watch cartoons in my bed before really getting up for the day...which I love because it gives me more time to rest!
Once we are up, Hailey hits the ground running...or pushing...
Keelyn takes a nap.

On any given day, be it hot, cold, late, early, long, short, busy or boring...we do laundry. Maybe it's folding, maybe it's washing, maybe it's sorting...but we ALWAYS do laundry. Hailey's actually gotten to be a great helper with this.
Then we play some more...with toys...

...and with each other...
Hahahahaha...I can't stop laughing at this picture. Keelyn's all, "Are you serious, Sis?" And Hailey's all, "Uh huh, I'm gonna clobber you the second Mommy's done taking pictures!"At some point in here we have a nap. Hailey sleeps for a couple of hours after lunch, and Keelyn cuddles with me...sometimes she sleeps, sometimes she wants to play. I am shamefully addicted to One Life to Live, so that's my adult interaction, if you want to call it that. Lots of days we go for a walk first thing in the morning, and a trip to Target is pretty common as well. But on days like today, we keep ourselves blissful and busy at home.

No day is complete without some time playing in the sink.
No day is complete without some dancing.
No day is complete without a good smile. So after lots of nursing, napping, eating, playing, dancing, singing, whining, moaning, pottying, laughing, talking, running, jumping, climbing, crying, reading, and on and on...we have a bath...read stories...and go to bed.

It's a dream.

Under Construction

Or something like that. Bare with me.

Job Offer

So I have been offered this job. It's a little bit marketing, a little bit other stuff, for a law firm I did some writing for last year. It's a good job. It's part time. It's mostly from home. It's okay pay. The catch is that I will have to be in the office (which is about an hour away) once a week for 4 hours. That means leaving my kids. That also means, after gas and a sitter, it will cost me money to work the days I have to be in the office. Of course, I'll make up for it the days I am home working in the evenings, so I will make money in the end.

Keelyn has a very difficult time being held by anyone but me. If she's tired, Andrew can't even do the job. I'm sure it's a phase, but it makes me nervous. I finally, after a month of trying, got her to take a bottle today...but it was from me, not some other scary person. Other scary people have tried, to no avail. At first this was my dream job because Keelyn was going to be able to be with me, and Hailey loves the sitter, but the formal offer came through with some different requirements, and they mean being gone from both of them for that time each week. Keelyn can't be with me.

I don't like being away from my kids for nap time. This is like an eternity. I hate the thought that Keelyn could spend the time crying for me, and I wouldn't be there. For now, if she cries for me, I appear...it's that simple. I know I shouldn't complain, as plenty of parents are less fortunate than me, and have to be gone all day. This seems like nothing, but it's huge to me. It's so important for me to be here for my kids. They need their mommy. I know other people can take care of them and love them, but they need their mommy.

I'm not just writing to vent. I'm writing to see if the readers of this blog stretch far enough to find me a different job that I can do entirely from home. I have to have a job. We have been bordering on moneyless since Hailey was born, and it's time to face the music. Any ideas?

I Don't Wanna Grow Up

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up, Hailey?

Her: No, no! Mommy, I not wanna gwow up!

Me: Daddy is grown up, what does he do?

Her: Daddy is a yanscapa!

Me: What is Mommy?

Her: Docca.

Me: A doctor?

Her: NO!...TALKA!

Me: Oh, a talker?

Her: Yeah.

At least she appreciates one of my many talents.

P is for Plunkett, and other such Great Things

P is for Purses...

And Hailey has a lot of them.

My brother used to fill a backpack with random bits of his favorite things. It was mostly junk. He'd literally find trash on the ground like old nuts and bolts, scrap metal and glass, and rubber bands. Then he'd put the pieces together to make "contraptions" and keep them in his bag along with other necessities such as books, clothing, and toys. His backpack would be so heavy that he could barely carry it on his small 4 year old frame.

Pictured are just a handful of Hailey's bags. In them you will find ponies, jewelry, more than one phone, books, things to take care of her dolls, cars, trains, toy food, real food, and the like. At any given moment, you may ask her where something is, and she knows the specific bag she has stored it in. We rarely leave the house without a bag stuffed with goodies. Until I had her lay them out to take this photo, most of these bags we hung on the handles of her doll stroller, which falls backwards, unless she is pushing it, due to the weight. Poor Baby Emma.

Oh, and Baby Emma can be seen below riding in the carrier securely fastened in the back of the shopping cart in which Carebear is also seated. Groceries are below. If there's not enough room, she does her grocery shopping with one of her baskets, so that the babies in the cart can stay comfortable. She is a dedicated mommy.

The funniest thing is to see how burdened she gets by this sometimes. Her purse will be falling off her shoulder, and she'll put down her grocery basket in a moment of frustration as she rearranges things to be more comfortable. Then, suddenly, Baby Emma will get sad, and she'll have to take her out and nurse her, while keeping Carebear happy. I wonder where she gets these things...

P is for Purple...

And Keelyn looks great in it!P is for Popsicle...

This was the first one of the summer. It was 99 degrees outside. Anyone else get regularly annoyed by the fact there is no "degrees" sign on the keyboard?

Same Skirt, Different Day

I could probably bet good money that on this same day last year, around the same time, we were doing the exact same thing. This year we have the added bonus that someone else thinks it's funny to watch us.

What were we doing you ask?

This:

New Dresses

This weekend we have three parties to go to. I told Hailey all about our weekend plans at dinner today...I think I've mentioned before she has a certain affinity for dresses...

"Oh, oh...and I wear my new dresses!!! Two new ones!"

"That's a great idea, Hailey, you'll look beautiful."

"Let's see, Mommy, how we gonna do this? You help me?"

"They're in the wash right now so they'll be ready for you."

"Okay, that be good. I be very pretty."

Weekend Things

It was the weekend, so I got to indulge. Cuddling with Keelyn feels so decadent sometimes. Both babes woke up about 6:30. Hailey and Daddy went downstairs for some cuddling of their own, as they take the time on Saturday mornings to curl up and watch cartoons. I scooped Keelyn up from her crib, nursed her, and assumed this position, for another two hours.
Two hours of uninterrupted cuddle time. No noise except the sound of her sleeping. I can feel her every breath. I can breathe in the soft scent of her little baby head. Part of me resists sleep, as I don't want to miss a moment of this feeling. She loves it too. If I move an inch away, she squirms towards me to make up the difference. It's a closeness we both crave. We are one again, connected in every way we can be as two separate beings. These moments are precious to me. I know when I wake, that time is gone. I am acutely aware of the fact that another few hours have passed. She'll never be just like that again.