Exhausted and weary, I frantically searched my bed for my pillow; the pillow that I have had since college that has been my source of comfort for all these years. Yes, I realize, I am a grown woman and I shouldn’t “need” a pillow but I did; I do. I’m an insomniac who gets little sleep and when I do, I am a creature of habit.
I got up and searched the floor surrounding the king sized bed and then my entire bedroom. Desperate for sleep, I tiptoed into my daughters’ bedroom to see if my pillow had found it’s way into a tent or play house. I searched by the light of my iPhone, trying not to impale myself on Barbie heels or stub my toe on an American Girl. Nope. It wasn’t in their tent nor in any make shift play house, not squished in a corner or thrown in a chair.
It was late and my desperation for sleep was rapidly increasing. I went back to my bed and tried to just sleep. Just lie there and drift off to sleep but my brain kept flashing “Where’s that Pillow?” It had to be here, somewhere.
Unfortunately, I am the person who jumps out of bed in the middle of the night if I am not sure that my keys are where they are supposed to be or if I’m not sure I put my credit card back in my wallet at the restaurant. I am that person. So, of course, there was absolutely no way I was going to sleep while that pillow was still out there. God knows where.
I got up and went downstairs and searched the first floor. Not in the living room, or media room. Hell, I even checked the bar room and the bathroom. Hey, with a 6 and 8-year-old, you never know where things might end up. Finally, I gave up; deflated and depressed; exhausted.
I climbed back into bed and in my spot was the tiny frame of my 6-year-old. I gently pushed her over as she clung to a pillow like a sighing little monkey in the dark. She was holding that pillow tight; like it was the last pillow on earth.
I slipped in behind her and cuddled her small body; not the squishy baby she was but not the awkward big girl she will soon become. In this moment, I was comforted holding my sweet little girl who still smells of green apples. She sunk deeper into me and somewhere between obsessing over losing my pillow and morning I drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, I awoke to my sweet little girl still lying beside me and rousing awake. What was she clinging to so strongly during the night? My pillow.
“Hey, where did you get my pillow?”
“I took it!”
“Last night when I went to bed.”
“Because I wanted to feel like I am cuddling with you mommy!”
And then I melted because how could I argue? Why would I argue? They are only this little for a little while so, I gave it to her.