The next morning, I wake up to the feeling of little fingers pressing at the skin around my eyes, prying my lids open.
“Mama,” Ian whispers as I blink and flinch out of his grasp. “Wake up. We want to tell you congratulations.”
“What?” I ask, still bleary with sleep, realizing suddenly that he’s sitting on my lap. How did he get up there without me waking up?
I feel Victor flinch awake behind me and then groan as he moves his head, rolling the stiff muscles in his neck.
“Ian,” I say, as gently as I can, working around my annoyance at being sat on in my sleep. “Can you move please? Mommy’s very stiff…”
He complies and scurries away. I put my hands on the wicker frame of the loveseat and work to pull myself up – god I’m cold and rigid – when suddenly, my face snaps to my right.
My bo
