It's 2 am

It's 2 am. 
And it's a battle field. 
It's a battle of wills. 
It's a test of patience. 
It's a delicate dance.
A bargain, a plea.
It's tired eyes and hoarse voices.
Shushing and singing and patting and coaxing. 
It's 2 am. 
Another tuck of the blanket and fluff of the pillow. 
It's staring up at the twinkling stars on the ceiling from the night light.
It's comforting, it's bargaining, it's hair pulling. 
"Just go to sleep little one, oh dear God go to sleep."
"Wa-wa, book, beh, mama, mama, mama..." 
It's 2 am. 
It's cuddles and cries. 
It's Netflix and sighs. 
"Get back in bed now!"
"Please lay down your head!"
It's laying on floors or foots of beds.
It's wondering if I'll ever sleep again. 
It's thinking about just giving in.
It's wanting to stay strong. 
Eye rubbing, tossing and turning, and praying for sleep.
It's 2 am.
Most people are sleeping.
She's finally letting her eyes close with soft, steady breathing. 
I wait for more fighting but still hoping she's settled. 
Such is the story in the dead of night.
Where mommies and daddies fight the good fight.