A star of the night, a child of the moon. The surest way to get her to bed is to stand at the darkened window. As the sun descends, sleep follows. But, we have found, that when full moon seeps through the white cotton curtains, she inevitably wakes.

Tugging at sleep, she rolls and rolls. I know how you feel, little one, I whisper. After years and years of insomnia, I actually slept well for a good while. That is until, within me, she rolled each night at midnight. And so, I am not surprised at her full moon dances and only work to soothe her restlessness until sleep beckons once more.

Darken the room. Black it out. This is the advice we’ve found. But I resist, thinking of how I first found a rhythm in the converted garage we lived in for a year and a half that had no curtains.

Let her be wild. Let her dance with the moon. And in the morning, we will sleep and eventually wake, wrapped in softness of clouds.