this strategically planned move allows me extra arms with which to cuddle the bigger ones before bed.
we read books. and then i give into the please-just-one-more? plea.
and we read another.
and if you don't tell my husband or the parenting advice people ... maybe another.
and so i make the rare climb of the ladder to lay with her for a few minutes before attending to my after-the-children-are-asleep-duties.
and now. six years and some odd months and days later ... i cry again.
the tears silently fall upon her pillow.
she has no idea that i lay next to her and cry.
she's just thankful that i took the time to lay there.
that cannot be the face of my baby.