No. This blog is not moving. This is just a new term we use on Seth when he hops over to our bed every night.
Posed picture. But that’s about how he looks with pacy and pillows. Imagine him with half closed eyes too.
Ever since we transferred him back into his cot next to our bed, Seth has been waking up in the wee hours of the morning (Right! They are called ‘wee’ hours for a reason. Do you realise your bladder is usually bursting at that hour? ;p ) and asking to be moved back into our bed. He would sit up in his cot and call out to us with his ‘Eh Eh Eh’ and once he is sure we are awake, he would stand up with pacifier in mouth, pick up one bean pillow in each hand and lug them over, half crawling, over Mt Everest (ME!) and into the centre valley (Between the Man and I). And when he is comfortably lying between us, he would raise his hands to fondle Papa’s stubble or cheeks and go to sleep contented. Sigh.
So last night I had a dream. I was invited to a feast with sumptuous food laid before me. Excitedly, I raised my utensils to tuck into my food, only to find that I couldn’t move my left arm! I woke up in horror to find my lifeless arm pinned under Seth who had snuggled to sleep in it after migrating over. Double Sigh.
Alright, I’m secretly loving his little migration ritual and his angelic little face falling asleep in my arms. The Man tells me to be firm, and not succumb to his migration trick. However, on weekends where the Man gets to sleep on the side next to the cot, I too wake up to find Seth between us. Heh!
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