wilowisp

Once upon a time, I slept alone. My bed was my own sovereign nation of slumber. That changed, naturally, once the Boy entered my life. It took a lot of getting used to, having someone else in bed with me for sleep. It made me aware of the strange things we do in our sleep; the shifting, the talking, my occasional paralysis and apnea. We got Buttons a year ago, and he joined us on the bed, usually sleeping right at the foot, though occasionally crawling up to around our thighs. Next, Zipper is old enough to be allowed in our bed one or two nights a week, and she seems to favor the space between our waists. Then, last night, she brought her stuffed toy duck to bed with her, and curled up with it. There is officially no more room in the bed.

What happened to my sovereign nation of slumber? Where has gone my crown and scepter and vast dreamscaped plains of sheet and blanket? I don't know now if sleeping alone would be a rare treat, or a frighteningly isolated experience.