Sleep. To me, it's my body's way of rejuvenating itself for the next battle.  I can't tell you the last time I actually had a full eight hours of sleep. My life has gone from 3am cram sessions about the fourth amendment, to late night filibusters, to election results from Maine to Hawaii. I could live on four hours with no problem in my younger days. I had started to grab an extra hour and a half when suddenly I had this thing happen to me while I worked for the President. So, sleep became less of a priority.

Months went by and the thing gradually faded, but will never leave me. And I've come to accept that. Sleeping is not as horrible as it once was, but it'll never be the same. For me, I can live with that. But I will not let it affect anyone else that I care about. My family will not have to suffer the same fate that I went through.

I carefully open the door to my daughter's room and peer inside. As I see her lying there, I wonder if that's what my own sister looked like at her age. In her four years of life, she has been my joy, my pride. She is so full of wonder and amazement at this world around her.  I want to wipe away every tear she sheds; I want to watch her eyes widen when she sees the zoo animals; I want to strangle every boy who breaks her heart. She's so innocent when she sleeps. She knows not the horrors and uncertainties that await her in the future. For that, I want to freeze time, keep her from having to experience what her mother and I have gone through in our lives. I will forever keep this image of her sleeping in my mind. She's my little girl and no one can take that away from me.

I then move to the nursery, where my newborn son lays in his crib. It's been three weeks since we brought him home. He's my son, the carrier of the family name. I lose track of time when my wife places him in my arms.  The newness of life is right in front of me and it's amazing. His sister is so caring around him. I caught her telling him one night that she'd teach him how to tie his shoes and to drink out of a big person cup. All those things that Joanie probably said to me at this age. As I watch him stir and settle, I see so much of my father in him.  My father would be so proud of him, of both his grandchildren.

My last stop is the bedroom, where my wife and I have shared the same bed for seven years. I cannot decide if she's more beautiful asleep or awake. She has given me more than the children; Her kindness, her compassion, and her love are more than I could ever ask for. She's bright, vivacious and a hilarious woman. I don't remember that exact moment when I fell in love with her, but I can't remember a time when I didn't feel something for her. The pieces fell into place and here we are – madly in love with two beautiful children and careers we enjoy.

I gingerly climb into bed and caress her now shorter platinum blond locks. She slowly smiles and turns her cheek into my hand. Her lids slowly open and her china blue eyes emerge. I open my arms and she slides into them. Kissing her forehead, I whisper that I love her and she reciprocates. Her eyes close again and she returns to her sleep, trying to get as much in as possible before our son needs her. I'll never stop needing her, wanting her; and I know she feels the same.

Now that she's securely in my arms, I feel my own lids start to drop. There are new problems in my life to face. I used to have to confront those problems and find a solution. Now, they can wait. First, I must sleep.