My little man got cold feet…


Its been two years into motherhood and thought I was at a point where I felt most of what came my way didn’t quite surprise me. My thresholds were strong, patience all tested, all cogs ready to go, fuelled for the trouble tantrum packed twos.

Until two nights ago.

A cold winter night, finally Arjun is asleep, I am all cosied up in my warm duvet, an hour inviting me into total REM sleep (which is so rare to come by). Then, all of a sudden, two little cold feet decided to swiftly, but quickly, slide themselves right under my warmed up belly. The horror! Totally stunned, abruptly woken up, It felt like my belly was thrown into an ice bucket while asleep.

Totally stupefied, my first instincts were to throw these little bed invaders off, which I did and they came sliding right back, as though it was a God-given right, that I missed the memo on….. when did my belly become a hot water bottle warmer for Arjun’s cold little feet.

Its the second night, it happened again and I am assuming this is becoming a winter status quo. This part of motherhood deserves a panegyric praise with a trophy and a oscar like speech to go with it.

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