I'm feeling brave.

Or stupid.

I am willing to admit that our "sleep issues" (I use quotes because really it's WHY THE HELL CAN'T WE ALL JUST SLEEP. Issues. Many issues.) seem to have vanished into thin air.

That sound you hear is my brain throwing a VERY big party. With streamers! And confetti! And noisemakers! There's even cake at the party. Good cake!

I don't know what happened, to be honest. Maybe it's the bigger bed. Maybe it's the obnoxious number of nightlights strewn about the upper floor of our house. Maybe it's the hints of an Alexis-designed mural (that probably won't be done for 20 years at the pace I'm moving) in her room. Maybe it's the fact that it's a long freaking walk from Alexis' room to our room. I can't be sure. All I know is the kid has only wound up wrapped around my head in the middle of the night once. ONCE. Once is so close to not at all that it's practically not even worth acknowledging. I'm ignoring you, Once!

Every night as I'm tucking Alexis in for the night, I ask her what she's going to dream about. It was a suggestion one of y'all made back when she was having wicked nightmares, and it's a seriously amazing little trick. I can't prove that it reduces nightmares, but I can prove that it's the bestest time of the whole day. I love hearing the kid report on what she plans to dream about. It usually starts with, "Playing with you." MELT. After that it's usually, "Playing with Barbies . . . watching High School Musical . . ." and a bunch of other stuff that is fine and dandy.

Lately, though, she has been listing the most fantabulous idea for a good dream I could have ever imagined. "I'll dream about staying in my bed all night."

It's about time the kid and I shared a dream. A beautiful, wonderful, perfect dream.