They're all in their beds. Three heads were asleep at angles in the backseat of the car, and they all woke up when we brought them in. Then the big two crawled right in their beds and burrowed down. We changed the little one into her jammies and she woke up and wanted things. "Dat, dat, dat," pointing. But I stood up and started to sing "Rock-a-bye Baby" and her head thumped down on my chest. Then after a few bars she picked it up and looked at me. I bent forward to kiss her and she bent forward, too. Then she put her head back down. I put her in her bed (I had already nursed her in the car before we left) and put her covers on. After all that I went back to the bigs to kiss them. They were still awake a little and Eva said, "how would you feel if you were out on a cold cold street and you had no clothes on?" She was asking because I'd tried to get her undressed in the bathroom before I had her jammies ready and she'd protested that she was too cold. I was pretty sure I was being scolded again. "You know what I would do if you were out on a cold cold street?" I asked. "What?" "I would make you warm." I kissed D. Then I went to check on the baby. She was still just awake and kicked and brightened up a touch when she saw me. I stroked her face and said goodnight, and she pulled her covers up. There is something so comforting to me to see them comfortable in their beds as a source of warmth and rest and holding. Something good in knowing even the baby feels this house and her bed are a good place where she can be awake waiting to fall asleep. In one word maybe it is trust.