January 2015
Michael has always done the bedtime routine in our house. I'm not exactly sure how it ended up like that, but there ya go. Maybe it's because when I put the monkey to bed, I put myself to bed as well...
Anyway, in the last few weeks I've started to join the boys during bedtime stories and I can't believe what I've been missing out on! There are stories, there are "spiders" that must be smashed, sometimes there's singing, there are snuggles, declarations of love, Eskimo kisses, and conversations had. Granted, there is also some wrestling, fingerprints on glasses, accidental knees to the face, etc etc.
I have to admit that bedtime has become the best part of my day most days.
I love that after the book has been read, Dad is often kicked out and asked to shut the door on his way. I love having all of his attention for a few minutes, which is almost impossible any other time of the day. I love the sweet little hands on my cheeks and honking my nose. I love the snuggles and hearing "I love you ten" (the very height of love for this four year old). I love the smile I get when I tell him he's my favorite. I love the silly conversations we have and the beginnings of those BIG conversations ("No, mommy does not have a penis. No you can't see"). I love listening to his voice, a voice we didn't know if we'd hear much of a year ago. I love/hate the furrowed brow and moments of silence as he tries to process something I just said (love watching the wheels turn, hate that the "basic" stuff doesn't come easy to him). I love studying that face sprinkled with freckles as he drifts to sleep.
I don't love getting so cozy that it's torture to crawl out of said bed or falling asleep before 10pm when I have so much left to do, but
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