I woke up with that feeling.
You know the one. I’m sure you do.
That feeling of just being off.
Unsettled for no particular reason.
Or for all the reasons. The snow blanketing the streets outside. The piles of laundry taunting me from various locations around our home. The words that I’ve boarded up in my head all week long, no time to release them.
I needed to do things, accomplish things, move things. Write things.
Baby, of course, woke up with that other feeling.
The feeling of just being in. Inside. In cuddles and snuggles. In books and stories. In a constant state of attachment.
I’ve begun to decode her requests. I’m certain that “Mama I’m cold!” in that distinctive, almost-a-whine kind of pleading tone really means “Mama I need a really big hug that lasts so long it becomes a cozy cuddle. On the couch. With a book and some blankets.”
And of course I indulged her. We cuddled on the couch through 2 Fancy Nancy’s and 1 Gruffalo.
And I’m always happy when she is happy and snuggled up next to me. But when M came back, he saw the crazed look in my eyes.
“Why don’t you head off before lunch?”
Nearly six years of marriage and not only does he know that look and what it means, he knows how to make it go away too. That is love.
And so he’s at home. Making lunch, sharing cuddles, reading stories, settling her down to sleep. And I am here. A quick but icy walk away releasing words and settling down. Feeding the introvert that I am with some truly quiet, all-to-myself kind of time.
Turning that feeling into this feeling.
You know the one. This feeling of being up. Rested up, filled up. Up for anything.