Photo by Evy.

 This morning at 4:30 I heard clanging. Jostling. Glass clunking glass. I shifted in bed so that I could better nudge Matt awake. Sweet Matt routinely takes the night shift. "Someone is doing the dishes and it's about to wake the baby up."

Ossi shuffled into the room to complain about the noise and light, his hair spun like cotton candy and eyes looking like baked muffins spilling over their tins. 

Matt told me that Evy hummed as she stacked bowls, having turned every light on along her way. He sent her back to bed with a "thanks but no thanks" while I nursed Gwen back to sleep.

Sitting up with Gwen gets my mind wandering. I wandered through gratitude and exasperation for the fruit salad we're in with all these personalities living in one family. I wondered what I should say to Evy, because I knew she was just laying in her bed staring at the ceiling.

I never did decide what to say. Instead I folded Gwen back into her bassinet. Then I hoisted myself into Evy's loft and wordlessly robbed her face of her glasses. I snuffed her nightlight and ruffled her hair in the quiet dark until her breathing turned rhythmic and slow like a taffy pull.

It was completely unlike me to pass up a lecture. To not even say a single word. To zip it and let life teach itself.

It felt really good.