Ever since my daughter was born, my favorite part of the day is bedtime and not because it provides me with much-needed rest.
I loved to rock my sweet baby and listen to her breath start to steady and slow as she drifted off to sleep. The fingers she had so tightly wrapped around locks of my hair would loosen, and my heart would nearly burst with love as I looked down at those beautiful, half-moon eyes closed so tightly.
I swear that in the moment that a child drifts off to sleep, nothing on Earth is more angelic than the face of a sleeping child.
Now, as my daughter has grown, our bedtime routine has shifted and changed more times than I can count. My daughter is going to be 2-1/2 years old next month. While she ends up in our bed at around 3 a.m., she likes to start out in her own bed where she can stretch out. She loves to have her Momma and Daddy put her to bed, and we are more than happy to do that.
When friends comes over and I excuse myself to put my child to bed and go missing for 45 minutes, or when I schedule evening outings late so I can be the one to put my child to bed before having a family member come over to stay with her, I find myself justifying why I don't just let my daughter to go to sleep on her own.
The short answer is that I love this time together and I resist replacing this time we share with steps that always seem to require tears. I don't want my daughter to feel forced to put herself to sleep. She wants her Momma. It's my pleasure to be there for her. It works for us.
I’ll never forget one night I was reading my daughter a book in which a child character felt lonely and upset that his mother was too busy to comfort him. While reading this, my daughter asked me why the character's mother isn't coming to him, and I found myself reassuring her that I would continue singing her to sleep as long as she needed me to do so.
After reading the book, I felt grateful to be able to help my daughter fall asleep. As she lay on her belly, I rubbed her back and sang. She held tightly onto two of my fingers for about 15 minutes before her grip softened, and she slept soundly. I kissed her on her forehead, told her how much I loved her, and slipped quietly out of the room.
My daughter won't need me to do this forever. Every day, I bear witness to her growing older. She is an independent, curious, brilliantly imaginative child. I can feel these moments slipping away, and there will come a day when she won't want me to sing to her and hold my hand each night. I want to enjoy and treasure every moment of our bedtime routine while it lasts.
Childhood is a fleeting gift. I love being her mom, and I adore the opportunity to be there for her whenever she needs me.
What is your favorite time of day with your children? In what special way do you enjoy moments of closeness with your child?
