I love bedtime with the girls. It is my favorite time of night. We snuggle in bed under down comforters with the fan up high and a small pile of books, and we read and cuddle and giggle. There is no bickering or crying or drama. By the time we make it to that magical time of night, everything, for few brief precious moments is cozy and happy. It is one of the rare times when my parenting experience matches the glossy parenthood brochures.
Rather, it was.
Last night Tate surprised me by offering to read to me instead of me reading to her. She picked up a copy of “Baby Bear, Baby Bear, What Do You See?” and proceeded to read with great enthusiasm as I pulled the covers under my chin and closed my eyes.
She was barely into the story when she read, “Red Fox, Red Fox, what do you see?” when she suddenly stopped.
“What is it honey?” I asked, opening my eyes. “Do you need help with a word?”
“No, I can read it,” she said. “It says that the fox can see a flying squirrel gliding by.”
“So why did you stop?”
“Well, I was looking at the red on the fox, and it is so pretty and bright, like your highlights USED to be.”
“Ah, well, thanks.”
“But your hair isn’t pretty and bright now Mom, it’s turning BROWN,” she said.
“Well, my natural hair color IS brown, I just like to color it red. I agree I am about due but is it really that bad?”
“All I am saying is that if baby bear said to me, ‘Tater, Tater, what do you see?’ I would tell him, ‘I see a Mommy who seriously needs to get her hair dyed.’”
My new favorite time of night is when they are both asleep and very very quiet.