Cuddle Confession

One early morning in late November, I brought Turo back to bed with me as I often did in hopes of gaining a few more moments of sleep. And on this particular morning he slept. We were cozy. He woke up after 7. It was lovely. The next morning, I tried it again. He slept. We were cozy.

Now, four months later, when the boy wakes up in the morning (really anytime after midnight) and sleepily requests “up,” I lift him out of his crib, and he wraps his little hands around my neck. I cross the hall and we fall back to sleep in “the big bed”. I love the way he curls into my arms. I like listening to the sleepy noises he makes. I’m even amused, most of the time, when he goes horizontal and his feet end up in my face. I look forward to this quiet, close time together in the stillness of night. I’m guessing he must find comfort in it too or he wouldn’t request me to pick him up night after night.


I’m sure the authors of my toddler book would not be pleased. They strongly urge parents to help their children sleep on their own. This makes sense on a practical level, but the cuddle is so nice. It’s so basic. It feels like a positive step in our attachment (see that makes it sound more legit, right?) I’m telling myself we’ll reevaluate this habit when we change into a toddler bed. Until then, I will welcome all the snuggling I can get.

Our "staged" sleeping photo.