family bed

being married has taught me this: there are things you grow up with that are "just the way things are done" and it can be such a surprise to find out that not everyone does them. like how you load the dishwasher. ryan puts the silverware in upside down. or whether or not you get to open your birthday presents before cake or after. or how the socks are folded. ask ryan about this sometime. not only do i fold the socks wrong (yes, the question, "there is a right way?" should be asked right now), but somehow it causes ryan to hold up the folded socks with one hand, point at them with his other hand and laugh.

"look at how silly this looks!" he says, happily. "isn't that ridiculous?"

i have to admit that i don't laugh, i just stand there. because it's not funny, it's not silly, it's not even ridiculous. it is a pair of socks that have been washed, sorted, paired up and folded.

despite the many moments in our day where ryan points at my handiwork and laughs his head off, we have found several practices our families both did that we wish to continue. one of them is this:
on saturday mornings, somehow, everyone ends up in bed with us. at this point we even have a routine way we do it. for example, ava always gets in on ryan's side. that's because he doesn't start hyperventilating after being kicked a thousand times in one minute. and seth comes in with me. so i spend my morning avoiding his slobbery little hands as he grabs for my cheeks and tries to suck on my nose. with vigor. it's endearing. and yet, not.

as wiggly as it is, it reminds me of the days when my parent's bed was a california king-sized water bed and we six children climbed in. oh, the riotous fun we had sloshing around on it!

ryan says that his family all gathered in his bed. i think it's because ryan was an aloof child. and if there's one thing i've learned about being in that family, it's that they snuggle. with almost as much vigor as seth and his fat, slobbery hands. my sister-in-law's husband, justin and i have bonded over this fact. sometimes he starts a story about his wife's vigorous snuggling and i finish it. because ryan snuggles the same way. it's like i'm wearing him.

the funny thing is, when we first married, i endured that snuggling. ryan is tall and skinny and could somehow wrap his entire body around mine like a maypole. i would have to position my lips so that they found air underneath ryan's arm and sort of suck the air in carefully. until, "ENOUGH!" i'd do my best to unwind his length and give myself some room. somehow, after four years, i've succumbed. at night i'm the one reaching over, holding his hand while i fall asleep. all of that physical contact has worn me down and i'm lonely if there isn't an elbow in my face. if ryan has somehow fallen asleep without remembering to squeeze me until my breathing is shallow, i will position myself in such a way that makes breathing nearly impossible. then i'll fall asleep. seriously? i've seen litters of puppies that like less pysical contact than ryan does.