Why is there a giraffe on my pillow

In the middle of the night I awoke and could not move. I was sandwiched between child number one and child number two. I contemplated squeezing out and finding a roomier place to sleep on the sofa, but as I shifted, child number 1 woke up. Eyes still closed, he grasped at an imaginary cow teet and pulling on it, he cried out milk, milk, milk. Mama, milk, milk, milk. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably a few minutes, I could not take it any longer. I pried myself out and stumbled down the stairs to get the boy his milk.

When I returned, he had shifted over and was now in my spot. And beside him, on my pillow was his stuffed giraffe. Both were sound asleep.

I shoved him, probably a little to hard, to wake him up. He had insisted on the milk, he was going to get it! I moved him back to the side, and lowered myself into my small spot in the middle.

This morning I woke up tired, like I hadn't slept much. And I promised myself that I would keep the kids out of the bed! And I'll stick to that, just as soon as I have the energy.