I’ve never really had anyone cuddle up to me in this way before and I felt surprised when I learned SML’s parents cuddle similarly on their living room floor. I so totally blame them for my tender ribs and that one time SML nearly poked out my eyeball when he tried to pick my nose.

In order to combat the usual onslaught of sleeping battle wounds, I take something like Tylenol PM before bed so that I can sleep through the different jabs I might feel during the night. It’s a lot like feeling sedated and I plan on overdosing on these kinds of pills if I ever get caught upin a fight between Hulk Hogan and Mr. T.

SML’s self-created war zone is in fact the only place I’d rather be at night. There’s really nothing else like it and I find that surviving it every night helps me feel like I can accomplish anything.

A couple of nights ago I woke up to something much different than loaded elbows. I woke up to a quiet whimpering noise that I was almost certain was coming from a dying cat. I looked down at SML as he actually cried in his sleep over what must have been the most terrifying dream; a dream that could have been about Bush being allowed to run for President again.

Seeing something like that left me feeling helpless because there wasn’t anything I could do. So I held him tighter.

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