A Thousand Sleepness Nights

I dream of days ahead when my little ones sleep all night long and we all wake up renewed, refreshed after solid eight-hour stretches of sleep. Our kids are great in a million different ways, but they've yet to master the art of sleeping throughout the night. More often than not, they wake up and need a little help getting back to sleep. Tired and relishing sleep of my own, or just needing a little mental break at night, I cringe when I first hear them stir.

My youngest cries loudly, disoriented and needing someone to hold and reassure him for a minute before he drifts back to sleep. I rush to get him and in the darkness I pick him up and hold him close to me. At 17 months, he's a toddler now, but still young enough to be held against my chest where I can feel the heat emanating from his warm little head. I kiss his soft hair and cheek and hum to him as he burrows into me. He lifts his head for a moment and yawns directly in my face, then nestles back down into my shoulder, his chubby hands around me. I love this.

The gesture and intimacy of a yawn, the smell of them, the weight of them - it's a love that is larger than anything, fuller than anything, maddeningly deeper than anything I have ever known. I feel so lucky to experience this. Life is stressful and complicated and wildly imperfect but in this single moment I forget all of that and feel only a pure, steady stream of love, like finally everything is right with the world. And as tired as I am, I will go another thousand sleepless nights to witness those yawns, to feel this rush of love, to be with them in those dark, nocturnal moments.