"Mom, it's me... Gwant!"

I hear that little voice fairly often between the hours of 2am-5am on the side of my bed. 

Grant holding his little blankie and little pillow tip-toes into our master bedroom a couple nights a week.

 "Mom, it's me...Gwantie.  Scoot over, I am wanna lay down with you."

You got it, buddy.  And he climbs in bed with us.  Falls right back asleep.  

We NEVER let our other two sleep in bed with us.  Ever.  We would escort them right back to their own beds.  But, something about this little one - knowing he is the final baby - lets me get over that and embraces it.  I don't care if it's frowned upon.  Go ahead and judge if you must.  

I love cuddling with this little guy.  

Especially during the cold dark months of winter.

And he is growing up before our very eyes.  Already in school and turning 4 next month.

I am going to savor this little age.

It's not going to last forever.

This saddens me.

So go ahead and climb in mom and dad's bed.

We don't mind...

I guess there are perks of being the youngest in the family.  

And this might just be one of them.