Night

On most weekdays, I've been out of the house for about an hour and a half by the time my kids wake up. I absolutely hate that I miss wake-up time. It's one of my favorite times of the day because the girls are at their absolute cutest. They crawl into our bed, their hair a mess and their eyes still puffy (I know, because I DO get to see this on the weekends). Their internal sleep meters are completely charged and they are at their sweetest, giving hugs and kisses to us and even each other. Sometimes, before coming upstairs, we can hear Lydia and Audrey talking on the monitor and then hear the thump of their feet as they run out of their room, down the hall, through the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs, and into our room. A short time later, we hear Charlie yelling, "Daadaa! Mommy!" and go get her to discover her standing in her crib, holding all of her stuffed animals and blankets and asking us to put her socks on.

On the other hand, I will admit to sometimes being relieved when I miss bedtime. Not every time I have to miss it, but sometimes. When the week has been long and trying, and when Jayson has texted me that he needs a beer. Or three. Those are the days that I feel a bit of relief when I'm not there, but also a bit of guilt and a bit of sadness. Bedtime has been overall a fairly easy time for us. Well, except for when Lydia was about one and a half until two. During that time, we moved her to a "big girl bed" and she would NOT stay in it. Jayson and I made the new parent mistake of laying in bed with her. Then we were trapped. It took us months to finally be able to get her to sleep without us in the room. Then more months to get her to sleep without us in the hallway, sitting where she could see us, working on our computers or reading a magazine.

We did not make that mistake with the others. In fact, Audrey STILL won't get out of bed on her own most mornings. She yells for us to go in her room and get her, despite the fact that she is in a regular bed and could easily get out on her own. Bedtime now is pretty easy and brief. Jammies, teeth, book, hugs and kisses, draw a nightlight for them on their Crayola Glow Station, and then bed. There are definitely nights where they stay up giggling or yelling or crying, but those are getting more and more sparse.

It's not so much bedtime being stressful as it is that time between dinner and bed. One of my friends calls it "The Witching Hour," when it's too early for bed, but the kids are tired and cranky and their internal sleep meter is urgently flashing red. Sleep is required and it will come soon, but not yet. That is probably my least favorite time of day. When bedtime finally comes, and for us it is early because our kids don't nap (even Charlie is outgrowing her naps) and they get up early, it is a relief. The bedtime routine starts and ends and Jayson and I collapse on the couch.

Then the house quiets down. And then I start to miss them and wish they were awake and want to peek at them sleeping but don't want to risk waking up the cherubs that just an hour ago were devils. It is this part of the day when I want to just hold them and stroke their hair and put their cheek to mine and whisper songs in their ears and just love them. When they were babies, a cry in the night brought a grumble and ruined a good night's sleep. Now, on many nights, it's a special treat. One more kiss and hug in the night and they're back to sleep. Or with Charlie, who is by far the best snuggler, ten minutes of rocking under a blankie with her head tucked into my neck. Those are times I cherish.