Bedtime

"No bed!  No bed!"  my impassioned two-year-old insisted the other night as I carried her uncooperative little body up the stairs.  It would not be an easy routine that night.  No amount of gentle coaxing or manipulative silliness would to get her to open her mouth for that toothbrush.  I resigned to just get the job done.

Keeping it real, some nights are like this around here.

But, thankfully, most of them are not.

Some of my favorite mom moments happen at bed-time.  Like when my two-year old actually settles down and just wants to cuddle with me in the blue chair.  Lyla's warm body melts snuggly against mine as we read Goodnight Moon or Five Little Monkeys Wash the Car.

After she is reading her own books in her crib, I head down the hall to my older girls' room.  The peaceful music coming from their CD player is a sharp contrast from the chaos of their bedroom floor.  My ten-year-old is too wrapped up in a good book to look down at me from the top bunk.  I interrupt, "good-night, Sophia."

My five-year old is busy constructing her new fort- ahem- castle.  Night after night, she has to make her sleeping arrangement a new kind of beautiful.

And night after night, after she falls asleep, we untuck the corners, untie the knots, and gently put our princess Halle back to bed.

The boys room is next.  My seven-year-old has been working on having a more positive attitude, so for months now, at bedtime, he has been telling me five good things about his day.  I know he loves this time with me.  Sometimes, he elaborates on one of his "five" with a story.  I get to hear about wall ball games at school and how a first-grader looks up to him because he is a rockstar wall baller.  Or, about the fun time he had playing war with his sister for hours and how every time one of them lost a battle, they would have to add another basket or box to the top of their head.  I'm still not sure how this worked, but clearly Tyjah had a blast playing cards that day.

If my twelve-year old has managed to finish his homework and dawdle his way through brushing and flossing his teeth by then, he won't let me out the door without a "Mom?"  This is sometimes followed by a vision of his future job at Google or the latest Google invention.  "Uh-huh," I say.  "Uh-huh...Uh-huh...Beau?  I'm going to start calling you Google."  He tells me, "whatever" with his eyes as they shift to the side, but his smile revealingly aspires to the techie nick-name.  He is currently obsessed with all things Google.  What I love most, is when I come in and find him on his knees praying or studying the scriptures.  Sometimes he looks up and asks me an insightful question.  With the distractions of the day put aside, he is ready to consider more sensitive matters.  I love these meaningful talks on the end of his bed.

Sometimes bedtime is sweet.