I just put Anne down for sleep. I wanted to remember to write this down before she’s 14 and I find myself longing for nights like I’ve just had with her.
We had a quiet night just making supper together. (Well, let’s be honest – her idea of “helping” is to eat most of the cheese and take big bites out of tomatoes like they’re apples and stick her head under the faucet when it’s running.) We ate supper and then read “Pigs” (Three Little Pigs), which is her very favourite book these days, even superseding “Goodnight Moon”. Then bathtime with “BUBBLES!” After her bath, we got her ready for bed. It’s funny to me how many things in your life can become rituals and routines that kids cling to for security. We put her baby lotion on, complete with back rubs. Cut her nails, combed her hair, put Ozonol on her face, diapers on her bum (still not night trained – yet!) and then jammies on. And as soon as I’m done with her jammies, she says “Mummy, I want chair.” I was blessed that she wanted “chair” and said “First say good night to Daddy.” So Brian came in and tried to say good night. She was adamant. “I want Mumma. I want chair.” So she quickly gave him his good-night kiss and then again, just in case there was any doubt, “I want chair”.
You see, we have a rocking chair in her bedroom. And every night before bed, we have a snuggle. It’s getting harder and harder for her to sit on my lap as my own belly takes up most of my lap these days! But we close the blinds, get her Blankie (“Bankie”) and she curls around my belly so that she can rest her head right on my heart. I wrap her up in her bed blanket. And Brian stays for “Now I lay me down to sleep” prayers. He turns out the light on his way out the door. And then Anne and I start to pray together. I pray quietly, out loud, into her white blonde hair, kissing the dent between her eyes, just above her nose. We bless all of our family – “Mummy, Daddy, our new baby, Granny and Papa, Auntie and Gunkle, Puppy, Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Leanna and Uncle Garin, our sweet Megan, Auntie Kim and her friend, Joe. We pray for whatever has been on the news or on my heart for the day. We whisper prayers for kids that don’t have Mums and Dads, we pray for peace, we pray that people would know that they are loved. We pray for each other, for Anne and her days and everything she’s learning. We pray for her sleep and dreams, her potty training and her time with her Dad the next day. We pray for hungry and sad people. We pray and pray. After I’m done whispering prayers, she’s tipped back half asleep. And then I sing. It’s more of an “in tune whisper” but all the old charismatic choruses that I loved and grew up on (the ones that the Bergens introduced me to) like “As the Deer Pantheth for the Water” are breathed into her hair as she falls asleep. Then we rock for just a bit longer so that I can watch her, struggling to stay awake but drifting off.
And then I say “Night night”. And she sits up and says “Kiss” then kisses me full on the mouth with a big smack. I lay her down in her crib. First cover her up with her blanket. Then tuck Mr. Bear into her left side. Then lay her blankie out flat on her chest so it covers both her and Mr. Bear. Then she says “Thank you, Mumma” and I say “I love you. Sweet dreams.” And she pops her thumb into her mouth and sighs.
