Tonight I went into my baby before I tucked down, which I do every night with every child. Tonight, however, B1 was very hot and sticky, the room was stuffy and so hot. I opened the blind and the curtains, gave her some water, and sat and cuddled her in the rocking chair by the window. It was a night where the sky was bright and clear, the wind was blowing and the moon shone through the branches of the trees. It was, in fact, magnificent. It is doubtful I would have noticed had it not been for the look of sheer wonder in B1’s face as she experienced her first ever sighting of the moon. I was taken back by the obvious awe in her eyes, and for a moment I was privileged to see the world through her eyes. The miracle that is our surroundings, that I see every night. I woke up and smelt the roses tonight with my gorgeous girl, or at least I saw the moon. We snuggled for ages, her eyes never once left the moon, so mesmerised was she, until gradually she drifted off to sleep. I sat there with a certain knowledge that I had shared something very special with my youngest. And I was moved.