It's been a long time since I've seen you at night in your crib, and to my shock you nearly fill it. Last night you were sitting up when I got there, and I picked up the soother and put it in your mouth and you melted back into sleep, your sleepy fingers playing a gentle tune on my hands, no longer the suffocating octopus grip of earlier times.

I savoured that moment in the dark without my glasses on, your big-boy sleeping body all fuzzy edges and softness. You stirred a bit when the floor creaked loudly under the weight of my departure, and in the end it was a short time before you woke again and I just brought you into bed. But you are growing up.

Even when you sleep in our bed, you no longer need to cuddle me all night long, you sleep in your own space now.