Feelin Handy?

Last Night

  Armed with my standard 3 hours of "rest", I go to screaming Bert, racing to preserve the fitful sleep of big brother less than 2 feet away .

   With warm bottle and fresh diaper, I return to our room and settle a calmed Bert into his playpen .

Foolishly, I retain hopes of sleep.
More crying. I retrieve distressed Bert. Pressing him tightly to my chest alleviates (his) anguish.
We lay down like this.

    After our half hour of pre-dawn snuggling, I decide to provide him his very own space

between Andy and me.  Offer declined.

 Bert resumes the comfort of face digging in my neck while squeezing/pumping my thumb.

Coughing, pumping, and burrowing, he has no idea he keeps me from sleep, therefore compromising the quality of the day's activities, meals, and snacks.

Nearing 3a.m., Bert opts for a shift to  his belly.

Diagonaling my pillow his arm fully extended

toward me.

For the next 2 hours, I fail to adjust my very long and now crampy arms to a comfortable position. Trapped by the possibility that if I go to the couch,

he might easily roll the 15 inches to the edge of our extra high bed.

4:40a.m.  More crying.  Andy awakes and accepts my suggestion that he spend time with Bert while I relax for 20 minutes before he has to get ready for work.

5:50 a.m. I thank Randy for spending time with Bert.

Touched by my gratitude and groggy smile, he warmly begs responds with a request that I polish his sword. 

No

Sorry Andy