We usually sit together on a blanket in cozy post-church clothes, watching a nature show/family video/Disney movie/musical while eating lunch. After the kids have their fill, a slow migration almost always happens.
Today, Bret noticed the migration and asked for my phone to document.
First my "spacial bubble" is popped as one child makes their way to snuggle up on me.
This little guy is a true mama's boy. He has claim to my sides and lets his sisters know by pushing or growling at them until they give in and move. I used to make him take turns but the girls have decided on their own it's not worth the growling and the pushing - plus they know there's always the other side of me.
Slowly, but surely, three littles make their way to me, finding comfort in any curve or appendage on this body of mine. I'm fluffed, poked, and prodded. I am of course, a pillow at the moment, and pillows don't move, which results in one or two parts of this "mama pillow" to tingle/fall asleep.
As much as I enjoy having my little brood around me, there comes a point where I need my own respite from being the pillow, to using another (and by another I mean Bret) as my own pillow.
I usually make some excuse to go check on the dinner cooking, or a potty break...whatever allows me to peel the little ones off me for a time, and seek refuge in my favorite spot on the couch, and drape my legs over Bret's lap, or actually sit next to him...like right next to him (can you relate to this rare moment?).
As the evidence shows in the above picture, the moment is short lived. Jonas, no matter where he is in the house, seems to know when Bret and I are sitting together, hugging in the kitchen, etc. He will sit, push, bounce, wiggle, and pinch until he has just enough room for his little bum to fit in between us.
Today he chose the bum in the face method on Bret and the his hard to resist pouty-lipped proclamation of love for me while caressing my cheek with his chubby (and sticky) little hand.
Not long after he manages to squish his way between us, the two girls migrate over as well, finding any space they can, pulling the blankets off my feet to cover their own...and I am trapped.
I get claustrophobic easily and hate feeling trapped, but this migration of my family to me is the only exception.
I decide to embrace this moment, knowing that soon, Bret and I will be the ones migrating towards them. Searching for any space around our children that we can fit in and always wanting to be by their side. I will enjoy this family squish time. I love this blob of legs, arms, blankets and bodies, and I'm pretty sure they love it too.