Trying to get a toddler to be still is a lot like trying to squeeze into a full body leotard that is 2 sizes two small while having coated your skin in sand paper. It is just not going to happen. So sometimes I like to lay with The Munch while she is sleeping and be with her while she is not moving or trying to rip my nose ring out of my face. It is nice to watch her while she is unconscious, but not in some creepy stalker way, more like I sometimes wish she was made out of wax kind of way.
The other morning she fell asleep with her clothes and boots on and was cuddled up next to me so I could feel her heart beat. At first I thought it was so calming and peaceful… the pulse of her little baby heart pounding in her chest. But then I started to think about how vulnerable her heart was. How I could probably pierce is with a bobby pin she is still so tiny. Then I thought about how one day her heart would stop beating, or one of her other organs would fail her. I couldn’t stop obsessing about all the mushy defenseless parts like her spleen or pancreas. Then realized I had no idea what half those things that look like aliens do inside her body anyway and I probably should have paid more attention in biology class.
The thought of The Munch and her weird insides one day not working anymore made me so sad I wanted to gag, but then I would have woken her up, so I just pictured dry heaving in my head… but that grossed me out so much I had to barf in my imagination because watching people almost vomit makes me have to spew chunks. I really hope I am long dead before I ever have to deal with her mortality because thinking about my own is terrifying enough. Maybe I was onto something wishing she was made out of wax.