You’ll never remember these nights.
The nights I go to bed early for you.
The nights I leave my comfy spot on the couch beside your Daddy to snuggle and nuzzle you instead.
You’ll never remember these nights.
But I will.
The nights my 33-year-old body sleeps on the smallest sliver of my king-size bed.
The nights I spend silently fighting you for an adequate amount of blanket and space.
You’ll never remember these nights.
But I will.
The nights I lie in bed, asking God if I’m raising you right.
