I thought we’d stopped. I keep saying that. I must be in denial.

Piper’s been finding me in the middle of the night again. She wakes up two or three times and tries to sneak into our bed. There’s nothing wrong. She doesn’t need anything. She isn’t sick. She just wants to be there. I wouldn’t mind her there either if it weren’t for the snoring, kicking, tossing, and climbing on top of me thing.

“I’m cold and you’re so warm,” she says, snuggling in. I let her. Then I march her back.

“I just need a hug. You give the best hugs,” she says. I hug her. Then I march her back.

Sometimes I wake up and find her on a pillow next to me. I don’t remember when she snuck in. Sometimes I’m too tired to march her back.

Every night when I put her to sleep I give her “the look” and she says, “Stop, Mommy. I know what you’re going to say. I have to sleep in my own bed. I know. I will.” She doesn’t.

Last night I woke up to find her standing by the door. She must have been assessing the risk. “I just wish you had a pouch,” she said, “so I could crawl back in.”