A tiny angel

Sometimes when S is just tired enough to fall asleep in my arms without the thrashing and screaming battle that commences on most nights and pre-nap times, I look at her tiny little angelic face and forget that she ever screams, ever kicks my arms with her insanely strong legs, ever grabs hold of my tiny hairs at the bottom of my hair and holds on for dear life, ever keeps me up all night long and makes me feel like my sanity is slipping away.  She's just a perfect angel, resting, peaceful.  And I smile.