11/05/2025
In the still, sleepy hours of last night, there came a soft knock at our bedroom door. Standing there, wrapped in the quiet glow of a nightlight, was our little girl— almost four years old, eyes barely open, clutching her beloved “Frøken Kanin,” her ever-faithful stuffed bunny.
With a tiny voice and a heart full of hope, she asked, “Kan jeg sove med dere?”
I braced myself. I was sure my husband would gently scoop her up and walk her back to her bed, just like he always does. Routine, after all, is sacred in the life of a parent.
But then, something beautiful happened.
He smiled, opened the covers, and said, “Bare kom opp, og gi pappa en kyss da!” (Just come up and give pappa a kiss)
Her face lit up like the first rays of morning. She quietly closed the door, climbed into bed with us, and nestled against her papa’s chest. She planted wet, sleepy kisses on his cheek and whispered, “Jeg er glad i deg og mamma.” (I love you both)
We whispered it right back.
That moment, soft and fleeting, etched itself into my heart. I realized something had changed in my husband too. I think it started over Easter, when we went camping as a family. He had watched our daughter sleep so soundly in the tent, wrapped in layers of blankets and the safety of being close to us. He said then, almost to himself, “She’s only a toddler once.”
And he was right.
As parents, we often hold tightly to routines. We cling to them like lifelines in the chaos of raising children. But sometimes, wisdom shows up in tiny footsteps at midnight, asking simply to be held.
So here’s what I’ve learned: It’s okay to bend the rules. It’s okay to change your mind. When your child asks to be close, it’s not a disruption—it’s a sign that you’ve built something safe and loving. Something they want to be near.
Let them climb into your bed sometimes. Let them feel the safety of your arms in the dark. Because these moments, these short years, are fleeting. But the love they build lasts forever.