What it's like coming home to Satu

Satu is so small that she sinks down into the bed and gets lost in the wrinkles and shadows of the comforter. Every night I get the pleasure of discovering her like a buried treasure. If she is asleep, I can locate her from the waves of heat coming off of her body. Usually, in the winter, there will also be an animal or two curled up next to her for warmth. 

If I wake her like I have done tonight, she is fussy. She will stumble to the bathroom following the weight of her head as if it is a wrecking ball pulling the rest of her body behind it, bumping into walls and changing course. Though she may fuss a bit, she is surprisingly good-natured about being awakened and we often have our best laughs in the middle of the night. Smoove Jams!

Sometimes it feels like I have spent all day translating the foreign language of other people to finally come home and hear someone speak in my native tongue. I love the way she calls me baby or honey or any of the other little names that I have to her. 

When I come home and have to stay up for a bit, I like to come in and kiss her on her cheek or forehead while she sleeps. I like it so much that I often make a few trips in the bedroom to do it a couple of times. It is kind of thrilling like kissing a small wild animal while it sleeps. She usually makes some noises. She may think she is talking, I am not sure. It sounds like she is talking with her mouth closed. 

When I finally get to snuggle in with her, I like the feel of her heat and the soft rhythm of her breathing. I love the smell of her and just the relief that I feel being next to her and feeling safe. There is no doubt to me that I fit best in the world, where ever Satu is.