Bedtime

I'm not going to lie and say that we don't sometimes struggle at nighttime. Sure, there are plenty of nights when we awaken with a start upon being thwacked in the face as Henry rolls over and his arm flies through the air. I've woken up to hear Kevin shout out after being kneed somewhere, and I myself have been known to toss around expletives when I wake up in the middle of the night with a knee in the small of my back and an inability to gain anymore space than the 2 inches I've been allotted on the edge of our queen bed. Depending upon the night, the time, and my stress level, I've been known to abruptly request that Henry - all sprawled out and sleeping soundly in the middle of the bed - "scootch!", rationalize with him by announcing that he is "encroaching"/"crowding me", and sometimes when it's really bad, announce that in fact he is a "pushy monster". As it turns out, it doesn't much matter what I say, he sleeps through it all, and moves with moderate grumbling (As If!).

Before we even get to the sleeping part, however, it can be a treacherous business. Lying in bed telling stories or chatting can easily go awry when one kid decides to move quickly and the next thing I know my nipple is pinned to the bed by a knee. It leaves one speechless, really. Or again, I am thwacked - accidentally of course, but all the same... One would think that nighttime is a time of rest and relaxation, a "break" even. But not so. It can be quite challenging.

But while the above is all too real and a little like crossing a busy street dodging oncoming vehicles, most of the time it's more like tonight, which was like this:

Walter laid in bed murmuring sweet nothings interspersed with, "Go 'way, Berbre" (bedtime is special Mama and Walter time, but Henry doesn't respect that quality time much, partly due to his own fear of being left alone, but it's also largely motivated by the fact that he doesn't want Walter to have anything he wants), and reached out for my hand which he then gently rested on his cheek. He pats my hair, leans over and gives me kisses, and sometimes holds me close before he says, "Bye", and I leave his room.

I then climbed in with Henry and while I typically tell him a story or sing a song, tonight we just laid there together in the still quiet evening. I stared at the glow in the dark moon and stars pasted to his ceiling and finally quietly said,
"Henry?"
"Yes?" he replied.
"I love you," I said.
"Thanks, Mama," he said.

Thank you, sweet baby.