Talk about heavenly peace.

Every day I’m faced with reminders that my babies aren’t even close to being little any more. In fact, they are closer to being tweens than they are toddlers. From the eye-rolling to the whining to the hair-fixing to the dreadful taste in Disney radio tweenaged music, the evidence hits me all the time. I recently had to dig through pictures from when the girls were 18-months and 3 years old, with their pudgy little legs and their dimpled hands and ohmygod the cheeks! I nearly cried. My kids are definitely big kids now; I can barely see the chubby little toddlers hiding in their big-kid bodies.

But last night… oh my heart, last night. Bee had a headache and had gone straight to bed without whining or fussing. She didn’t even want the light on. When I put Gracie to bed thirty minutes later, Bee started whining because Gracie wanted to listen to a CD. I made sure the music was low, soothed Bee and rubbed her back, and thought she fell back to sleep.

Ten minutes later, just as I shut off the television and was thinking about climbing into bed with my re-read of The Help, I heard the girls’ door open. Poor sleepy-eyed Bee was trying to hold back her tears, her little chin wobbling. “I still have a bad, bad, bad headache,” she said.

Bee and I have this thing – no matter how hot-tempered I am, even if I’ve just yelled at her for the 30th time to get back in bed, if she comes out to the living room and asks to snuggle, I do it. Happily. Don’t ask me why I’m able to keep my temper in check then, but not other times. Maybe it’s because I remember snuggling against my mom’s fuzzy yellow robe when I was very, very young. Maybe it’s an overwhelming desire for my kid not to have more bad memories than good. Who knows? But it’s our thing. And last night, she activated the superpower.

So Bee climbed into my lap, I tucked her head against my shoulder, and started rocking her just the littlest bit. Her big-kid legs (and even bigger feet) were dangling way past my lap and over the couch cushion, but the rest of her was tucked up against me, almost like it used to be. I expected to cuddle for a few minutes, wait til she was sleepy-ish, and then bring her back to bed like I do when we cuddle. But then my Bee-baby fell asleep. In my arms. I heard her breathing even out and I sat there for the longest time, still rocking, trying to remember how many years it’s been since once of my babies had fallen asleep in my arms. Three? Four? My girls fight bedtime with ever fiber of their being – they always have – and if they’re up, they’re on the go. I haven’t felt the miracle of lulling a girly to sleep in so, so long.

Anyone here saying that isn’t a miracle is not a parent.

After ten or fifteen minutes, when Bee was completely zonked and I was on my way, I stood up and carried her to bed. I tucked her in without injuring either of us (praise Jeebus) and then crawled into my own bed to read my book. It was just a few moments in the middle of a hectic week, but they were perhaps the most calming I’ve felt in ages.


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3 Responses to “Talk about heavenly peace.”

  1. Leandra Says:

    I love this so much. It brought tears to my eyes. I haven’t had either of mine fall asleep in my arms in ages, but Punkin and I shared a bed while we were camping last weekend. During the night, she put her hand on my cheek and left it there. It was so sweet that I didn’t even mind that it woke me up.

  2. Kathy Says:

    Lucky! I do miss those days. Thankfully boy-child is a snuggler and will curl up with me on the couch several times during the week. It is the best I get for now and I am ok with that.

  3. Agent Torklepants Says:

    Awwew :0) lol picturing you trying to get off the couch is pretty funny. The fact that you didn’t drop her and she didn’t pummel you to tue floor means she’s still little 🙂

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