Right now there's a dinosaur on my nightstand. It walks and roars and after a busy day demolishing train tracks Graham insists it belongs in my room at night. Possibly it's a guardian against nightmares.

Although I'm not sure why I'd need it. I don't sleep enough these days to hit a REM cycle. But they've never been great sleepers and they trained me pretty early on. Even when they're with their dad for the night I wake up around two am, listening for the squeak of the bedroom door.

My toddlers seem to survive on long naps and a few hours sleep each night. They opt for midnight expeditions and epic action figure battles that always end with yelling. Graham is also a master of silent iPad theft and I wake up in the early hours to the sounds of Curious George coming from their room.

But each night before bed he places the dinosaur on my nightstand and says, "I'm going to leave him right here." In the mornings he checks to make sure it's there, nodding to himself, "I was just making sure."

I think I'm going to be sad when he decides I don't need it anymore.