There are nights when the world slows to a soft hum, and I find my almost-2-year-old tucked into the curve of my chest, sleepy sighs punctuating the quiet. On these evenings, the cot sits sadly empty, a distant lighthouse for a drifting ship. She sometimes climbs up with a careful, little-show-of-deftness, and I welcome the moment with a grateful sigh.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with a little extra cuddle, a whispered “let’s rest here a while.” The odd contact sleep, the gentle bobbing of breathing in perfect synchrony, the way her tiny hand finds mine and holds on-these are not just routines. They are steady stitches in the fabric of our family.
I treasure these nights. I know the truth every parent learns in time: kids grow up fast. They pace through stages with a brave and curious energy that leaves me both in awe and a touch wistful. Tonight, she chooses my chest over her cot, tomorrow she’ll choose independence over dependence, and soon enough the house will loosen its grip on layets of closeness.
So I listen to the soft rhythms-the tick of the clock, the cadence of a sleepy breath, the hush of a room that holds our secrets for a moment longer. I smile at the tiny weight on my chest and the warmth that settles there, a reminder that love isn’t something that has to be loud to be loud enough. It’s in these quiet, imperfect, perfectly ordinary moments that I find the heartbeat of motherhood.
If you’re reading this and you’re in the middle of a cuddle-filled night, here are a few thoughts to carry with you:
Embrace the moment without guilt. It’s okay to savor the closeness and choose comfort over routine for a while.
Recognize the season for what it is: a fleeting but meaningful chapter that will someday become a story you tell with a smile.
Create small rituals that honor both warmth and sleep-for example, a short cuddle, a whispered lullaby, and then a gentle transition back to the bed when the time feels right.
The days ahead will bring new challenges and new joys-brushstrokes of growth that change the canvas in unexpected ways. But in the soft, imperfect nights when she chooses my chest, I’m reminded that love is a present-tense affair: patient, attentive, and wonderfully, gloriously human.
As she drifts off, I tuck her into the realm of dreams and tuck the moment into my heart. Because someday she’ll sleep in her own room, and someday she’ll be the one telling me about the busy world outside our door. For now, I’ll treasure these nights-the quiet, the closeness, the unspoken promise that no matter how tall she grows, she’ll always find her way back to a cuddle that feels like home.
~Karola Marais - Sleep Consultant