Pecked by Ducks

Last night I was lying in bed listening to Max cough. It was so cute and pathetic and heartbreaking. But mostly it was all consuming of my attention. He just has a cold. Nothing serious. But you know, when you have a cold and then lie down, you just can’t stop coughing? Well that has been Max for the last three nights. He had his cough and cold medicine, his humidifier was on, but the poor little guy was just coughing away.

So I was lying there listening to him cough, when I realized, it’s the middle of the night, I can’t sleep and literally, listening to him cough is riveting my attention. His room is next to ours and both of our doors were wide open.

Then I noticed that I was holding my breath between coughs and was starting to feel anxious when I couldn’t hear him breathing and relived when I could hear him cough. I can sleep through a prehistoric sounding washing machine, but not one tiny 3 year old coughing.

Then he started whimpering in between coughs. I finally drove Judd so crazy popping my head up like a prairie dog that he got up to go sleep upstairs. At that point I realized that I was giving up and was going to bring Max in with me. Quinn was already in the mini aero bed on the floor in our room (a nighttime potty training attempt gone bad) and frankly, I just wanted to be able to hear Max breath.

So Judd brought Max and his pillows in, and headed up to the Man Cave for some peace and quiet, while I snuggled and kissed Max up and got him settled. Then I rolled over so we were snuggled up back to back and we both finally fell asleep.

I don’t know what it was. But I could finally relax when I could feel his warm little body, feel him breathing and know, that if I wanted to, I could kiss his cheek. And he was finally able to relax and stop coughing long enough to fall asleep. Because he knew I was there? Because his cough syrup finally kicked in?

I have no idea. But it felt like more. Like some sort of instinct. Like somehow, from a long lost evolutionary survival mechanism, we needed to be close to each other. Even though usually we can happily sleep in our own rooms and be fine. For some reason, some strong, inexplicable reason, I needed to be able to hear him breath. And to me, it seemed like he needed my presence in order to relax. Once we had that proximity, Max curled right up into the space in the hollow of my back and fell asleep. And I floated for a moment, wondering why I was now relaxed and sleepy enough to drift off before I too was asleep.