Annika has been noticing her “spot” in bed as of late. If I happen to roll over there, or if god forbid, we happen to switch sides and she is lying in “my spot,” she screams, “Mama! That’s MY spot! You can’t lay in my spot!”
A few mornings ago, as we were lying in bed, thinking about getting up, and she said it again, I thought to myself what a great metaphor for motherhood this was.
Here she was, sleeping in my bed, which I have owned for years before she was even thought of. Hell, I owned this bed before I even met her father. And here she was, taking up way more than half the bed, and her “spot” is a spot that I used to regularly enjoy and roll around in for years before she was born.
Now, here she is, a part of my life, taking over her own areas of it and feeling totally secure that she is taking something that is rightfully hers.
And it is.
I think that she has all the right in the world to take over this chunk of my life. Some parents might not see it that way, but I think this is a big part of what Attachment Parenting advocates try to teach. Parenting is not about enforcing your will, or making your child bend to your ways, but accepting that they are separate people with full human rights.
They just happen to be taking over your spot, and your life.
The funny thing is, even though she has taken over parts of my life that I used to fully enjoy without her, when she’s gone, it feels like something is missing.
I complain all the time about how she is a bed hog and I can’t sleep without her sprawling on top of me, and pushing me up against the edge of the bed. For two years now, I’ve gotten used to sleeping, frozen, literally hanging on to the edge of the bed.
But when she’s gone. I can’t sleep. It just feels like something is missing. I guess it really is her spot now.