Gratitude

My four year old farts in her sleep.  Little tiny poofs of air toddler farts.  I know this because she sleeps in my bed with me almost every night.  She used to sleep in her own bed, but since her dad and I separated 7 months ago, she has taken to sleeping with me.  And against all the crazy no co-sleeping rhetoric running through my brain, I'm not even trying to get her to sleep in her own bed.  She needs some extra security as she goes through all the changes that have been happening in her world and I'm confident that when she feels more stable, she will make her way back to her own bed when she's ready.  So for the time being, I have a little bed buddy. And truthfully, I love it.  Absolutely love it.  I don't want it to end just yet.  Sometimes it's a lot of silliness before she settles down, tickle rubs and giggles.  And sometimes we read books and tell stories.  Other nights we're exhausted and it's straight to bed.  Whatever it takes to get settled, we always end the day the same way; she asks me to rub her back and she will snuggle up close until we are forehead to forehead.  So close that I can feel her breath on my face.  Her blanket gets tucked underneath her chin, satin edging rubbed against her nose, thumb in her mouth.  She rests her hand on my arm, making sure I'm not going anywhere, and I rest my hand on her side and feel the rhythm of her breathing slow down.  And we can just be.  Just be.  It is one of the sweetest, most intimate interactions we have together. Sometimes I fall asleep along with her, but more often than not, she falls asleep before me and my world is at peace and I can be totally and completely present in the moment.  Soaking her in, relishing her toddlerhood, and breathing out the busyness and stress of the day. Gratitude.  Gratitude for the circumstances, no matter how painful, that have created this special time and space for us. Gratitude because I know that we will make it through this, together.