As I climb into bed with a book and a chocolate, I begin to let my body rest, one clenched muscle at a time. And I prepare myself for blessed sleep. And I listen to my son cry over and over and over again, "no voy a dormir!...no voy a dormir!..." [I'm not going to sleep!...I'm not going to sleep!...]. (We're going on 30 minutes now.). Until his poor, weary body fails him and he gives in to the blessed sleep.
At what point in our lives did we cease fighting sleep and begin to relish it? And how do I convince the kiddos to get there sooner?
Questions for another day.
Good night.
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