When the cat's aways, the mice will...

play musical beds?

Husband is out of town this weekend. Last night, Daughter went to bed without a screaming and crying fit (more on that miraculous occurrence in another post). Son, on the other hand, sobbed into his pillow missing his daddy. Even so, they were both quiet in their beds at 7:25. Then, of course, ten minutes later, Son was downstairs to go potty. Then down again because he couldn't sleep. Then down again because he still couldn't sleep. I suggested that he sleep upside down. (He has convinced himself that if he puts the pillow at the bottom of the bed, it is a magic talisman that will help him sleeps. Because he thinks it will work, it does work.) But tonight? "I don't want to do that," he sad mournfully. Whereupon I told him that if he wanted to fall asleep in our bed, that would be fine.

"That's just what I wanted," he replied happily, and practically skipped up the stairs to do just that. I didn't hear from him again.

Falling asleep in Mama and Daddy's bed is a prize reserved for special occasions of insomnia. Both of our kids take advantage of this prize once in a while. Then, when we grown ups come to bed, we carry the heavy sleepers back to their own beds for the rest of the night, and all is well. Hard core, they-must-learn-to-sleep-in-their-own-bed folks may sneer at this plan, but it seems to comfort the little ones when they are sick or, as in this case, missing their Daddy. So I'm fine with it.

Last night, when I came to bed, I found this.

Son sleeping face down with Teddy, his arms tucked under himself for added warmth (all the many blankets and covers were on the floor), and Dog smooshed up as close to Son as she could get. She lifted her head sharply when I came in, as if to say, "Don't you wake my sleeping boy, Lady."

I decided that since Husband wasn't going to be using his side of the bed, they might as well stay. But I did do a little rearranging in the form of adding appropriate use of pillows. And myself. (I did also add covers, but the limits of my astonishing art skills preclude me drawing covers while still enabling you to see the layout of all the figures in the bed.)

Cozy and sweet, right? A nice way for a me to feel not so lonely in my giant extra-wide queen-sized bed while my husband is away.

What I forgot, however, is that children multiply in the night.

And grow.

And dogs steal covers.

And the net result, in the wee hours of the morning, is something like this:

where the children have grown to occupy twice their normal area, flailing across tremendous square feet of bed space in the reckless abandon of REM sleep. The dog, though still curled up, has turned into a 75 pound stiff lump of fur-covered concrete. Although she is not actually using a pillow, she is precluding any human from using an entire half of the bed by strategically placing her immovable bulk smack dab in the center of prime bedtime real estate. Have you ever tried to shift a sleeping 75-pound dog who does not want to be moved? You might as well try to carry your car across the room. I was relegated to sleeping awkwardly across the foot of my own bed, with no pillow and almost no covers, squished into the few square inches left to me by my precious family. I felt like an interloper trying to squeeze myself in, like a child sneaking into her parents' bed at night. (But obviously, not like my own children, who feel perfectly confident in their own primacy that they are quite comfortable growing over five feet tall at night in my bed.)

Absurd? Yes.

Will it probably happen again tonight since Husband is still away? Yes.

And I'm not sure I'd want it any other way.

Though I may take some precautions tonight and store a spare pillow at the foot of the bed for myself.