Goodnight Moon

When I was little, I shared a room with my little brother for a while. Although our bedtime was around 8:30pm, Trent and I would stay up playing games, talking and giggling, a lot. After a period of time, we'd hear our parents walking down the hall and for fear of getting in trouble for still being awake, we would pretend to be asleep. Our door would open, and I heard them standing there for a while and sometimes whispering to themselves. After a few minutes, the door would close and the giggling would resume, even more so, now that we'd avoided being caught.

I always assumed that my parents were making sure we were asleep and not playing around like we actually were. I never questioned the length of their "checking" time, only taking pleasure in its length as it created more suspense. It was quite the rush for a five year old, as one can imagine.

Since then, I've never really given it much thought-I have had no reason to. But lately, I find myself spending a lot of time in a barely lit nursery, gazing into Beck's crib. Sometimes when I lay him down to sleep, I feel like I am leaving a part of myself in that room. I then have to convince myself that it's okay to go downstairs or to my own bed and let him sleep there alone.

Sometimes, Casey and I will watch him. I can't explain why we do this exactly, but to say that I get it now should suffice.