Nighttime musing while caring for tiny humans

It’s late. 

Or maybe it’s early. 

I don’t know. Either way I’ll keep this brief. 

Kids are such a roller coaster. One minute they’re cute and cuddly and just want to hug you and watch Moana. The next, they’re just screaming their faces off about how they wanted popcorn and buncha crunch, not popcorn and gummy bears for movie night (seriously, I promise I’m at least a decent parent). 

And when they finally go to bed, you find yourself maybe a little relieved. And then, if you’re like me, you feel the guilt seep in. 

You go to bed, feeling like dirt, determined to make it up to them tomorrow. 

But when the monitor goes off at 2am and all you hear is their scared crying because of the ridiculous thunder storm outside, you groggily race up the stairs stubbing your toe on the baby gates that you forget how to work with you sleep deprived brain, scoop them up into your arms, and immediately feel the tension in their little bodies release. Their little eyes don’t even need the glow of the nightlight to know that it’s you. You’re their safe place. And they lay their little heads down on your chest and heave the most satisfied big little sigh you’ve ever heard. 

You don’t need to “make it up to them”. Regardless of the temper tantrums, and the pouty lips, and the tears, they know you’re always there. You’re their safe space, and they can act out for you and at you because they know, even at the end of the hardest day, you’re going to love the shit out of them anyway. 

So on that note, I’ll just sit here a while longer and enjoy my cuddles. I can sleep tomorrow. 

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