So yeah. Here we go. I didn't sleep particularly well last night, so I was already awake when Brady came into our room, padded up to Adam's side of the bed, and whispered 'daaaaad.' Since Adam could probably sleep through a metal concert and I was awake anyhow, I motioned for him to come to my side, and lifted the covers so he could get in. (I should stop here and say that this is not a common occurrence in our house, mostly because I cannot sleep while touching anyone else. Having a wiggly kid in the bed pretty much means I'm giving up any chance at rest.)
He quietly explained that he'd had a bad dream, and then he --and BearBear-- cuddled up against me. I laid there feeling the rise and fall of his little chest and listening to the rhythmic timbre of his breathing, and realized that even though I couldn't sleep, I was still having a pretty amazing set of moments.
After a half an hour or so had passed, I shifted slightly and he whispered "I love you," and lifted his head. I asked if he wanted to go back to bed and he said he could try, so that's what we did. As I returned to my room a few minutes later, I felt a distinct sense of tranquility. It's not always easy to be a mom, but those unexpected I love yous and rare middle-of-the-night cuddles soften the edges of the harder days. And for that, I'm thankful.
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