It's funny how kids develop preferences for things as they grow up. Ice or no ice, crust on toast or no crust, diapers or pull-ups. Avery, now three, seems to have acquired several of these, one being that of having (or not having) a night light. I personally wasn't one to require one growing up, although that soft yellow glow was certainly comforting.
Avery can't seem to decide whether she likes it or not, so our daily bedtime routine involves the debate over whether or not to plug it in, and often results in her unplugging it and setting it on the windowsill. Eventually once all the other lights are off, she ends up plugging it back in anyway, apparently deciding that the comforting glow of the night light is far better than the darkness of night. Ainsley on the other hand hasn't seemed to need it at all and tends to sleep much better without one.
As an adult I've found that I have two night lights of my own, one being Avery, the other Ainsley. I love my girls. They are the brightest, funniest, most charming little souls I've ever known. Regardless of the whining, tantrums, and tears, they are still the lights of my life. In the darkest of times they shine brightly, warming my heart and comforting me when I feel lonely or tired. Much like a night light, they allow me to be reminded of all that is good and forget the darkness. I look forward to Nate's return home so he can see how much they've grown and changed, no longer babies, but little girls with huge personalities, and an endless supply of love and infectious laughter, shining brightly in our lives. No matter what darkness may come, I'm no longer afraid of the dark.
