This is a sweet little post for future me: for some night far from now when it’s just Buds and me. The children might still be living with us, but out for the evening, or they may be off on their own, in other cities or other countries.

We’ve reached a stage where I am often in bed before the children. I get up earlier. I like sleep more. I love reading a book in bed.

We have hugs and kisses when I tell them I’m headed to bed.

Monkey still likes me to tuck her in, even though she generally pops right back up. I love that.

The other part I love is that the vast majority of the nights they all pop back to our room, sometimes multiple times, to snuggle in, just for a few minutes. A brief, quiet reconnection at the end of the day.

One, or three, last chances for hugs and kisses and ,”I love you.”

We were comfortable co-sleepers for a decade. We had a bedroom filled with mattresses in various homes. We had our sweet babies snuggled with us and we all slept better for it.

And then we sat with children as they fell asleep. That also went on for years.

I may still snuggle in with a kiddo when needed. Nighttime can be long if you are sick or sad or scared. It’s always been okay to come get us in the night.

Those times are so seldom now, and I’m so thankful that the children still seek this connection. I love, love, love when they come quietly padding down the hallway.

This unspoken knowledge that if they need me I’ll be there.

They didn’t always make it to the bed:

The picture below is right after my dad died. Yessa is a newborn.

We were grateful for sleep wherever we could get it.

Even if the physical proximity is gone at some point, I hope the feeling of connection lasts forever.

And while we’re all living together, I’ll gather my snuggles while I can.