Being There To Listen

I must admit that on most days, by the time bedtime rolls round, I am eager to pack the kids off to sleep. Already my kids sleep way later than they should -- so late that I'm embarrassed to tell you what time that is! So by the time they get in bed after the reading is done, I'm usually in a hurry for them to just go to sleep already. It's lights out, prayers, and no more talking, thank you very much. I get annoyed when they roll around, ask for water again, and try to prattle on about something.

Then recently, while sorting through my iPhoto library, I stumbled across something I had just about forgotten. It was a recording of a conversation I had with Noey when he was 2, nearly 3 years old. It was actually a video, but there was no picture as it was pitch dark: I had recorded it while chatting with him after lights out at bedtime. And, my goodness, it was the cutest thing. I had forgotten his baby voice, and how he used to refer to himself in third person all the time. I burst out laughing at the sound of his voice gleefully telling me that "Noey wants to beat Lincoln because he is a naughty boy". It was in fact one of the night chats that I used to enjoy so much with him in times past.

It made me stop and wonder how that slowly evolved into today's hurry-hurry-be-quiet routine. Was I missing out on something valuable by not allowing my kids to talk to me at night?

I know I have to make some changes, I must. Before they stop talking to me altogether. I would loathe the day when I would miss out on silly conversations like this:

Me: Noey, did you know that when I was younger I thought I would name my son Ethan?

Noey: Why?

Me: Because I liked the name Ethan! Though not so much now.

Noey: Did you think you of naming Meimei Weethan?

Me: Weethan?

Noey: Yes, because she needs to go to the toilet all the time!

My son. He's growing up to be quite the comedian. And I want him to be having such funny conversations with me as he does just that.