Something beautiful and cozy and snuggly happens at least once, and usually twice a day in our house. A giant warm fluffy sleep bomb goes off at bedtime and for naps. It’s glorious and enticing. My kids get excited for sleep. We jump under the covers and giggle and cuddle (and hope that nobody farts). We talk about our day and say silly things. Maybe read a book or two. We talk and giggle some more. Then, usually, right when I start to get comfy, someone will shout out that they have to go to the toilet… sigh… up we all go. To the toilet, and then jump right back in bed, where we can cuddle again.
Goldie, (almost 2) falls asleep on my right shoulder, and Margo (4) falls asleep somewhere on my left side, either on my shoulder too, or while I’m scratching her back, or just simply flops over and drifts off on her own. Sometimes there are no giggles… sometimes there is crying and kicking and screaming! After a big day, then the giggles turn into negative emotions that need to be released. And, that’s ok too. I know that it just needs to come out before they can drift off to sleep. When the crying is over, they fall asleep peacefully… in my arms… or right beside me.
My husband and I never have to chase them back to their beds at night because they’re already there! I never have to worry if the temperature is right in the bedroom, or if a rat is chewing on their toes, or if they’re climbing out the window (or all the other crazy things that you imagine up when you’re a fierce mama bear raising children)…. I can hear and see them in an instant. I know they have baby monitors for this, but I just like seeing them in real life, I guess…
The sleep bomb starts just as they’re about to fall asleep. I can feel the whole energy change. My own consciousness starts to slip… but it doesn’t slip too much… I have this sixth sense and I can’t fall asleep fully until I know they’re asleep. My mouth parts a little as I start to doze off and juuuust as that happens, I come back from that sleep bombing bliss because I know that at that exact moment, they have just fallen asleep. I listen to their breath, I see how their chests are rising in a certain rhythm, and I know for sure that they’re fast asleep. They almost always fall asleep within seconds of each other. Usually, then I’ll pass out too. Sometimes, if I have something urgent to do (like write a brewing blog post) I can muster up enough strength to peeeeeel myself out of that sleep bomb trap.
That is the sleep bomb ritual that happens every day, and I love it. If you could hear it, it would sound like a cloud of soft fluffly sleepy dust that exploded a hundred miles in every direction…pooof… Goodnight.