Perfect Mom

I check on both my boys before I go to bed. David first, and by now I am accustomed to seeing him in the crib where his brother slept just four months ago. He has two preferred sleep positions: flat on his back with arms splayed above his head, or curled on his side and sucking his thumb. David moves quite a bit in his sleep and usually shifts as I tuck the blanket and smooth his silky hair. I set out the diapers and burp cloths and a magazine for the overnight feedings, then quietly cross the hall.

Adam can fall asleep in all sorts of odd toddler positions, and we often find him with one or more limbs dangling off his twin mattress. We've set it on the floor for now, so he doesn't have far to fall. Two years ago, he slept in a compact bassinet next to my bed. Now, he looks like a real kid, and his truck and train and sandbox adventures have earned him the still, peaceful sleep of the exhausted child. I kiss his cheek or the top of his head. He rarely even twitches.

I have no idea when parents stop checking on their kids at night. All I know is I am 37 and my mom doesn't come into my room at bedtime. This ritual evolved from the early days when Adam moved out of our room and I checked constantly to make sure he was breathing. Now, it gives me a moment each day when I know my kids are safe and content, and I am the perfect mom.