She's warm and squishy and still small enough that I can pretend she would fit back inside of me.
She smells like milk and Mustela and the pineapple she had for dinner. I lean into her face to breathe her in on purpose, and her eyes flick half open long enough for her to put her hand on my cheek. She has no words yet, but her meaning is clear, "You. Stay."
She snorts and chortles back to full sleep. I should go do something more useful, but I don't want to leave for anything, so instead I pull even closer. My nose brushes her eyebrow. "You're the sweetest creature on this earth and I'm not going anywhere," I whisper.
Several minutes later, her dad opens the door. "Finally got him to sleep," he whispers, "Need anything?"
A blonde head peeps at me from behind his leg.
"No you didn't," I try not to laugh at his exasperation. "Here, take her to her crib. Bub, come crawl in with me."
Words will never be a problem with this one. "Snuggle me," he demands, as he settles in and stretches from my chin to my feet.
I can't help but compare. This Goliath can't ever have been in my body. And he smells like outside, even after his bath.
But, still, I gladly do as I'm told. And we both drift off.
A few hours later, I rouse a bit. He's gone, carried off to his own bed by his dada, who now occupies the same space that everyone else has rotated through. I take a minute to relish being the small spoon--the cuddled instead of the cuddler--and then nestle back to sleep yet again.
I can't remember the last time I had a full night of sleep, but I can't imagine it any other way.