Daddy's Arms

I'm not a cuddler. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good cuddle, but when it's time to go to sleep, I need my space. Paul has accepted this about me and I think even enjoys a little space of his own when it's time to hunker down and get down to the sleeping business.

Every now and then, I'll wake up in the middle of the night and for some reason, I need to be held. Sometimes it's because of I've had a horrible nightmare, others it because I'm just randomly scared for no reason, and then there's times when I just look over at my sleeping husband and want to be in his arms. It's a safe place.

This morning, Eva woke up WAY TOO early. I was gently pulled from my sleep by the sound of her bare feet shuffling across the carpet in my room and when my eyes had forced themselves open enough to focus, she was standing at my bedside, her nose mere inches away from mine, her perfectly positioned pig-tails from the night before all lopsided atop her head. "Momma, I want to cuddle Daddy." I reached out my arms and pulled her up into our bed and she immediately made her way to Paul's side.

Paul instinctively enveloped her in his arms and her eyes closed tight as she nuzzled into the warmth of his body. I laid there staring at them, smiling.

I know how it feels my little girl. Sometimes, you just need to be held by the man you trust more than anyone. It's a safe place.