I must say this phrase at least 20 times a day and 30 times a night. My little girl thinks sleep is elective, and has since she was born. She doesn't yet understand the concept I'm still and forever trying to insist upon, which is that sleep is a general educational requirement, and she must pass or she can't graduate. She must pass, or the professor (me) might croak mid-lecture. Mid-sentence. "It's time for rest, Lllll..." (clunk.) My girl is a lightning bolt. She likes to surprise us with her monster sounds and skin-ripping face grabs. But there are many moments in her day when I catch her somberly taking in a piece of the world that's new. One morning, we were standing by the window, winding down before her nap. We were watching the trees bend in the wind. In whispers, I told her about summer breezes and what they do to leaves on trees. Once again, she surprised me, but in a different way. This time, she placed her small, puffy hand on my face and cooed. As I turned to face her, she looked right through me, then stared at my mouth and whispered little sounds back to me. She'd discovered the power of a whisper, and it was electric. My girl is a lightning bolt. Today, I'm looking up the bus schedule. I'm going to plan an adventure for us. We've made friends with all the hotel staff, the CVS clerk, and many others in our area. Now it's time to expand our horizons. I told Scott the other day how my job can be tricky in many ways. One in particular: sometimes I feel it's my obligation to share this baby with the world, because the world really needs her. A person simply passes us on the street, and a smile transforms their countenance, just from walking by this little wonder. She's put a smile on countless strangers in this town. I feel an obligation to share her sunshine, and yet my first obligation is her happiness, not the world's. I feel I need to protect her, as well. Little lights need to turn off once in a while. Little lights need their rest, and by that I don't mean sleep alone. Rest from new faces. Rest from new places. Some days need to be for just little lights, and no one else. God, grant me the wisdom to know which kind of day it is.