1998 december 11

there were seven in the bed and the boyfriend said...

i have a confession to make: i still sleep with stuffed animals.

i have a rather large collection of the beasts, some of which i have had since i was a baby, some i have had for only a year. i have bears, elephants, lions, giraffes, and mice. i have wombles and carebears and ruperts and popples. i even have a panda stuffed with sawdust that i bought in guangzhou, china.

i used to sleep with maus but he is so old i am afraid i will destroy him, so he has been moved to a place of honor on the shelves where he can sit safe and sound and watch over me as i sleep. right next to him is titbear, which is a horribly embarrassing name for the poor dear but it is what i called him as a baby so titbear he shall remain, and the patchwork dog my auntie eileen made for me when i was born.

so, most days, instead of clutching the medium sized maus, i now sleep with the tiny sized cow and panda, one in each hand, snuggled up under my chin.

gene has been a sweetheart about the whole stuffed animal thing, most likely because they are small enough that i can hold both them and him at the same time without too much trouble. the fact that he usually comes to bed after me, and i have by then relinquished my death grip on the little beasties probably helps my case as well. what he didn't count on was christmas.

there is something about the holidays that brings out the child in me. i wear jingle bells, sing all day long and weave tinsel in my hair. i also revert to childhood patterns and sleep with not just the cow and panda, but also with the santa paddington bear, the good luck pink pig, the lion and the lamb.

last night gene came to bed, and carefully picked his way through the menagerie to snuggle up against me. i love the way we fit together when we sleep, the way he wraps around me and shelters me from the outside world, his arm across my waist, holding me tightly against him. i may need to have the little animals in my hands to fall asleep but i never really settle into dreamtime until i feel the weight of gene against my back.

"hey baby, you coming to bed?"

"if there's enough room for me, i am."

gene, my darling, light of my life, there will always be room for you in my bed, in my heart, in my life. i love you.

snug as a bug in a rug, claire