My angels are finally asleep. Finally. An hour after I put them in bed.

We have been pushing onwards and upwards with “tomato staking” Lia. She’s been a good sport, following us from room to room, always staying within sight cheerfully. Day after day I re-commit to watching her 100% of the time, but it seems like my “best” efforts can’t manage more than 85% and she still finds ways to sneak things she knows she shouldn’t be touching.

This “tomato staking” bit (something that has become more clear now that I am in charge of staking our real tomato plants) has cut way deep into MY time. Naptime is no longer MY time, it is time to sit in the hallway and watch our wily child, making sure she stays in her bed and out of trouble. And the evenings, previously my lounging/internet searching/chatting with husband time, are now spent sitting in the hallway, peering into the semi-darkness to catch Lia before she even thinks about getting out of bed.

I sit in the hallway and feel my face contort into that motherly scowl. You know what I’m talking about. That “don’t you DARE do it” glare intended to scare the bejeebees out of small people intent on mischief. But making that face is really uncomfortable. Besides, I’m sure it will give me wrinkles.

I decided tonight that I can be pleasant even when meting out unpleasant consequences on the bottom of said small people. Or, small person, as is the case here.

So tonight I sat with my book, ignoring my cravings for that last bowl of minestrone in the fridge (don’t get me wrong, I’m fully intending to eat it when I’m done here…I just didn’t want to fend off whimpers of sudden hunger from the direction of the girl’s room), and practiced gazing pleasantly and lovingly through the darkness, confirming that the lump on the bed was indeed a little girl and not just the bunched up comforter. (Several times it WAS the just the comforter…what did I say about 85%?) And I listened to Lia singing herself to sleep with her favorite songs from “We Like Sheep”.

No matter how baaad we are, the Shepherd loves us…

Yes, He loves us and He calls us His own.

Oh, He loves us and He calls us His own…


2 thoughts on “Bedtime

  1. I clearly recall hours spent during the summer months – not going to sleep. I know this was before the age of seven. My sister and I would lie in bed while it was light and wonder why we should be sleeping. So, we’d tell stories and sing songs. Typically it worked better if we sang “Jesus” songs, because mom couldn’t scold us effectively. 🙂

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