Special Moments

Evelyn,

I share a lot of our lives on social media. Sometimes it's for inspiring others or just documentation, an online scrapbook of sorts. But there are some memories that I feel more protective of, that I prefer to keep close to the vest. Tonight was one of those. And while I know this is in fact MORE public than my social media, I feel comfortable sharing since no one else will likely ever read this but you. 

Tonight you laid in bed for a couple hours, fighting sleep with all your might. Finally you crept out of your room and into mine, sneaking into my bed and asking if tonight could be the night I let, no, make you stay up all night. I laughed. This goal of yours to stay up all night long is sweet. You just want to know what we do once you're asleep but there's really nothing exciting happening. I scroll on my phone, watching funny videos and Dad plays games. Sometimes we play cards or a board game or we lay in bed and talk or read, but it's nothing thrilling for a 6 year old.

You wanted to stay up. I admit I'm not the one who came up with the concept of bedtime for you. I don't care much for bedtime myself so naturally I don't take much pleasure in putting you to bed. But Dad prefers you to have a predictable schedule so I go along with it. 

But Dad was not in our room tonight.

So I let you snuggle up and we laid there talking, me gazing at this marvelous creature I brought forth from my womb just a little over 6 years ago. Feels like only days. 

You ask me questions, wanting to see if you can bring forth a long, drawn-out answer that might tease a few more minutes of wakefulness out of me. You think I'm not onto your schemes. Your forced chuckles to distract me from remembering that it is almost 4 hours past your bedtime. But I'm happy to have your company. It's not often that we have quality alone time. I'm drawn into my phone a lot and you have Mabel on your tail. I am living for these quiet moments where we can just be.

Your mind is really endless. The things you think of astound me sometimes. Your perceptions of your small world, and the larger world too. I wonder how much of this time you'll remember as you get older. 

You held out as long as possible, until Dad came in to chase you back to bed. But then he didn't even run you off. I think he realized the importance of this time for all of us. You squished between us and we talked about how you used to sleep across us, like an H, with your head on Dad's chest and feet on my tummy. This made you giggle. You still have your infectious laugh after 6 years. I hope you always keep it.

When we finally put you to bed, you had us do your old nighttime routine of hugs, kisses, butterfly kisses, ugga muggas, hand squeezes and kisses. Even when five minutes prior you were stunning me with your philosophizing, this little act reminds me that you are still just a child and all of your thoughts swirling around in that beautiful head are just beginning to learn how to organize. One day you're going to change the world.

Thank you for tonight and for every moment I get to be your mom. ♥️