I snuggled next to Rachael as she fell asleep last night.   Falling asleep, she has the same rhythms as a thunderstorm in the distance.  Overall, the weather is calm, but series of lightning bolts twitch across the sky, something running all the way across the clouds, sometimes flashing off in a tight group.  She twitches here, she twitches there, there’s a twitch that runs from her feet all the way across her fingers, her knee twitches over and over again.  The storm fades; she breathes deeply, asleep in my armpit.

Over time, the storm has muted.  It used to be full of loud chatter and flailing limbs.  She’s changed to please us, right or wrong, so we’ll spend more time next to her as she falls asleep.  She hates to sleep alone, in the dark and quiet, still.

I doze off and wake up when Lee goes to bed, stumbling in after him.  The blankets are cold.  I dream of saving my daughters from wolves and bears.  If only life were that easy.