Sweet Alexander

This morning (after catching up on reading the blog), Alexander spontaneously ran to me, gave me a big hug, and said, "Mom, thank you for creating Heissatopia! Because I love to read it and remember good memories about our family!"

I realize that sounds nothing like what a five-year-old kid might say, but rest assured that Alexander often talks like a 90-year-old man and he routinely melts me into a puddle of sentimental goo. 

The other night I heard my door creaking shut around 3:00 in the morning. 

Quizzically, Phoebe was not in bed with us yet and I knew it was not her in the hallway because the light flicked on and then off really quick. I decided to get up and investigate what was going on and found Alexander slowly turning circles in his bedroom. He was suffering in terrified confusion, unsure of what his next move would be. 

"What's up, buddy?" I whispered.

"Oh, Mom! You're awake! Good!"

"What's going on?"

"Well, I woke up and it was dark and I was afraid! I tried to turn on our fairy lights but it's so dark that I couldn't find the switch, so I thought I would turn on the hallway light—but I made sure to close your door first so that I wouldn't disturb you with the light—but then when I turned the hallway light on it was too bright even for me, so I turned it off and then my eyes felt like things were even darker than before and I want to go back to sleep but I really need a light on and I don't know what to do!"

I helped him switch on the fairy lights (a string of gently-glowing LED lights), tucked him back into bed, and didn't hear from him until the morning. 

He's just the sweetest little thing though.

(I mean, sure, he has his rough and tumble moments, but overall he's just the sweetest little thing!)