Before I Forget

It was the witching hour. The kids weren't particularly grouchy, but I was feeling run-down and exhausted. I kept checking the clock, only to see that time was just
c r a w l i n g.
I kept reasoning my way through the repercussions of putting my kids to bed at 5:30pm, but it just wasn't worth it. So at ten to six, with kids bathed and jammied, teeth brushed, books read, beds "unzipped," and prayers said, I decided to turn out the lights in Peter's room, close the door, lay both kids in the bed alongside me, and sing maybe thirty songs. It was actually one of the sweetest moments I've ever had with my kiddos. And they are generally pretty darn sweet. 

Brooklyn didn't last too long in the bed with us, but she wandered around the room, bringing me treasures. That was pretty cute. Peter kept his head on the pillow, forehead against mine, with his hand either on my cheek, twirling my earring, or playing with my ponytail. A few little gems from this exchange I want to remember:

"Mom, I'm touching your errearrings and being so soft and careful. They are so pretty. Yeah!" 

After singing, I Know That My Redeemer Lives, he sat right up and practically screamed, "Mom! That was soooooo beautiful. Girl songs are very pretty, Mama. But boy songs are not so cute." What are boy songs, Pete? "They are not so cute." Pete, I don't know if there are boy songs and girl songs. I think there are just songs and anyone can sing them. "No mom. That was a girl song. It was so beautiful." 

There were about a dozen, "I really love you mom." He says this to me at least twenty times a day. I melt. 

After about a half hour of snuggling and receiving treasures from Brooklyn, I told Peter that I was going to put Brooky down and go to bed. His lower lip quivered as he burst into genuine sobs. Peter? What's wrong? Are you sad? "Yes. sobs. I was sad cause sobs you said you were sob going for a nap. You sob don't want to stay with me sob sob." Oh, Pete, of course I want to stay with you! "And sing the wonderful songs?" Sure, bud. "Oh, I love the wonderful songs." How about we do two more songs, and then I'll go put your sister to bed. "Okay. That is what I decided."

I got a gooey kiss from my boy and went to tell my girl sweet dreams. I lay Brooklyn in her crib (in Scott's closet while we redo a few things in her bedroom). She was a little confused, but is such a trooper about sleeping that I didn't anticipate any issues. We went through our little tucking in routine, and then I snuck away to hear Brooklyn whimpering a couple seconds later. When I went back into snuggle her (I've never had to reenter her room after putting her down. Ever.), she looked at me with the most earnest little eyes and pleaded, "Unny." We had left her little gray bunny at grandma's house where she napped that afternoon (due to the work in her room). I felt terrible that I didn't haver her Unny. I was pretty pushoverly close to sticking the kids in the car (it had been an early bedtime, after all) and driving up to my mom's. I know if I called them, by the way, they would have been at my doorstep in a minute. They are pretty obsessively loving in all the best ways. I brought her downstairs to the playroom, where we searched for a replacement bunny for the night. She settled on on the Hudson Bay bunny from Gramma Lyne and fell asleep smiling.  

Even the witching hour can become absolutely darling.