Monday, March 21, 2011


I had a really sweet conversation with my son tonight as I tucked him in.

Bedtimes have gotten pretty hectic around here as the kids get older. Its such a struggle to get everything fit in to the day, and the last 30 minutes feels almost as rushed as the first 30 minutes. Time is only going faster and faster every passing moment.

But tonight, the hands of Father Time were as tired as I was, or so it seemed...

I managed to master the race, and had both kids bathed, jammied, properly nourished, read to, and in bed by 7pm. I know. Insane time warp.

This gave me a moment to just lay in bed and talk to the suddenly not-so-little boy I happen to adore so much.

He shared about how he thought it would be so fun next year when Anabelle was in Kindergarten, that he could pick her up from class and ask her how her day was, and then they could come find us or another grown up they know to get a ride home together.

If you've ever heard my lovely son tell a tale, you know he has my gift with words (ie: he never shuts up, he will make a one word answer longer than a sleepless night with a sick baby). The way he carried on, and the enthusiasm in his voice was just so genuine, it was such a sweet thing.

It didn't take long for Miss Anabelle to realize she was missing the party as she lonesomely pinned away for mommy time abandoned in her bedroom down the hall. Not knowing if she was invited or not, she padded cautiously into the room, clinging to the ragged blankie that is the only thing left that reminds me she is the baby of my life.

She hopped in next to me, and Dawson sweetly goes "ANABELLE! Know what we were just talking about?..." And proceeds to tell her all about the adventures that next year will hold for her in the wondrous promised land called Kindergarten.

I let it go on for awhile before I finally realized their stall tactic was working, and shifted the conversation towards our bedtime prayers.

We've been praying for a lot of things at bedtime lately. Life has handed us a lot of recent opportunities to have meaningful yet sometimes difficult conversations about why people get sick and some get better and some don't (we miss our grandparents!), how you know if you are marrying the right person or not, what happens to the people after natural disasters occur, and whether we might be next on the list for tidal waves and earthquakes.

Tonight, Anabelle started her prayer "Dear God, thank you SO much that your hand is over us, that you are our Father who loves us so much... please help the people who got Tsunamied and earth-quaked. Help them to have people come and fix their homes, give them food, help them not to be sad... and please bring the dead ones back to life. Amen."

Dawson took the reigns from there, and also offered a fervent prayer about the Tsunami victims and the people who need help in the world.

Their prayers aren't always this meaningful, sometimes they are downright silly, but tonight they were both feeling it.

When Dawson finished his prayer we sat for a moment in the dark, and I just drank in their smells and their soft breathing, realizing this was a special moment and I have the best kids that ever lived and that the gift of childhood doesn't last near long enough (except for on the days when you're sure it will last forever and you are a miserable failure of a parent).

The silence hardly lasted long enough for me to finish this thought, however, because Dawson (also lost in his thoughts, evidently) screeches out of nowhere...


I have never thought I'd be changing my kids sheets because I peed their beds, but for as hard as I was laughing, it was a close call.

I am thankful for this night.



Ann Jutras said...

Laughter through tears. You did it again. I do so enjoy your blog....and your family! Keep spreading that love, lady. Ann

Hammie Fam said...

I love your kids. They rule. So does their momma!