I still remember the first time I watched my youngest drift off with a tiny lamp casting soft color across the room. As a mom in my forties juggling school drop offs, community bake sales, and the neighbor who borrows sugar more than she returns it, those small comforts matter. My two kids, now between eight and twelve, have routines that revolve around quiet corners, homework sprawls, and nightly stories. Little lights became our secret trick to turn ordinary afternoons into calm moments. They make homework less harsh, bedtime gentler, and the living room feel like a hug after soccer…