Sleep is a luxury, not a right

I am ripped from a deep sleep by the pain that shoots through my head.  My two year old son is ripping my hair out of my head.  He has been restless much of the night.  I can't put him in his own bed because his screaming will wake his brother who has school in the morning.  I roll over, but before I have the chance to lose my patience I see my little boy's face in the dim light.  My toddler's fingers have intertwined in my hair as he sucks his thumb for comfort.  I can't help but kiss his chubby little cheeks.  He shifts from my touch.  Suddenly his face is pressed against mine as he now uses my head as a pillow.  I don't want to move him since this is the first time he has been comfortable all night, but there is no way I can sleep this way.  I slide his body over and roll onto my side where I see my four year old creepily staring at me in the dark as he stands next to my bed.  How long has he been there?  He sulks back toward his bedroom after I regretfully tell him there is no room in our bed for him tonight.  I know I probably shouldn't let my kids sleep in our bed, because no one gets great sleep, but my four year old is getting more and more independent by the day.  How much longer will he allow his parents to cuddle with him?  Then I hear the screeching sounds coming from the other room that can only mean that my six year old is awake.  I look at the clock; 4:33 am.  I untangle my hair from my toddler's hand and crawl out of bed to tell him to go back to sleep.  I find him hiding in a cardboard box on top of his bunk bed.  Where he got the box, I have no idea.  He is laughing hysterically at some personal joke.  How long has he been awake?  I stand there listening to his laughter for a few minutes before returning to bed.  Somehow the lack of sleep doesn't seem so bad some times.