Lennon is next to him. She is getting so tall. It's clear to me now, I really need to spend some of our next paycheck on pajamas. She never sleeps with covers on, and tonight is no exception. Her face is covered by her tangled birds' nest of hair, and when I lift it away, she squirms back into hiding. She's absolutely beautiful. I can hardly believe she's out of first grade. Despite the evidence of too-short pajama bottoms, she is just too small for the world that is getting bigger around her every day. I see her struggle to stay afloat some days, and I want to yell at everything to STOP, so my little girl has a chance to catch up. But nothing stops, and still, she's right there. And sometimes, on a really good day, she's dropping that world right in her pocket, like a treasured rock. I hope that she sleeps in tomorrow, because she can, but the more realistic parts of me know that she'll be awake at the first sign of light, hopeful that the world is right where she put it the night before. I am hopeful too.
Eric snores beside her. Our bed usually looks like this by this time of night. At some point, he'll wake up and put them in their own rooms, and if we're lucky, they won't follow right behind him as he stumbles back into bed. Eric has been working so hard. He deserves more than ten inches of mattress. But he always welcomes them back. I wish he could stop snoring, but other than that one tiny flaw, the man is my favorite person on earth.
I'm tired tonight, but I decided to take some time to work on a writing project I've given myself. I got to a point where I couldn't write any more about stuff that didn't matter, though. So I gave myself this time to think about the stuff that does. I'm glad I did it. I'll sleep well tonight.