Saturday, 6 June 2009

second floor

I swing up the stairs, around the newel post, and down to the first door.

It's dim in there - the blue of twilight coming through her lace curtain and her Madeline nightlight cheerily glowing in the corner, but the dark can't hide her grin and wave when I come in.

Surrounded by stuffed rabbits of every size and possible colour, my little one waits for her tucking-in with a wiggle and a determined planting of her feet on top of the covers. When I bend and sweep her blanket up, I have to find resting spots for all her bunnies before she'll relax into waiting-for-sleep.

Saying goodnight to her is a process - a song, prayers, a second song, a quick kiss and a conversation about what tomorrow will bring, and only then do I walk down to Cass's room.

Cass is usually reading. Or possibly playing his DS, covers pulled up but the sheet crumpled at the foot of the bed. It takes me a minute to fix that, settle him with his fan turned on, his door opened just so, Lucy the cat ensconced in her spot at the end of the bed and his final kiss, and then we talk a little about the day.

He loves me, he says, and he'll see me tomorrow.

And I step out of my big boy's room and walk softly down the hall, past his already-slumbering sister's room where the plop! of a bunny hitting the floor is the only sound, and head toward the pool of light at the bottom of the stairs.

I love this time of night, when the television is muted and low and I can hear them turn over or scramble up for a quick drink before bed. When the cat padding down the hallway to check on the girl is the loudest sound in the house.

When my babies are safe, and fast asleep, and dreaming.

12 comments:

Bronwyn said...

That was really pretty.

Woman in a Window said...

Yes, pretty. You captured that time of transition so prettily. Although here it is replaced with a thumping and a fighting of the day gone by. A little less bunny from the bed but still as sweet.

Anonymous said...

Wonderful post!

MsCellania said...

My sweetest moments are when I peel both 60 pounders off their dad, gently pull the books from their hands and carry them to their own beds -- around 1 a.m. It will be a sad day when they are too heavy for me to lift anymore.
Putting the children to bed is the reward at the end of a successful day.

velcro said...

you have to read her Tatty Ratty by Helen Cooper. If she loves soft toy rabbits, she'll probably love that.

Ree said...

How wonderful. And peaceful.

Mike said...

I remember those days fondly. Now all I hear are the clunking of their feet as they head up stairs and come to say good night to a sleepy dad....

His Office, My Studio said...

Very sweet!!! Makes me remember the days with my sons. I wish I could still tuck them in but the Army and Navy would not like that. I still get a I love you from them when we talk.

Chantal said...

Hmm that sounds nice. These days I usually end up laying down with my youngest and falling asleep before he does. I miss my evening personal time, and my PVR is almost full :)

Unknown said...

*sigh*

Loth said...

Lovely post. Even though my youngest is now 9 and too cool for most stuff I used to like, I still get to re-arrange his vast collection of stuffed rats and give him a hug before the light goes out. I will be devastated if (when?) that goes.

Silly Bus said...

Your blog is like an encyclopedia for those who want to know more about this. Thanks for the interesting information.

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