I went in tonight to check on my girls. I find two sleeping, so I gently rearrange blankets so feet are covered and books are out of the way. I sigh in contentment. Two are still awake, almost as if they are waiting for me. Waiting for the last talk of the day. A chorus of I love you, sweet dreams, and 143. Quick kisses on the cheeks, feel the cheeks of a child not feeling well.
No matter how old they get, this is a ritual I still love. The arms around my neck for one last hug, the kisses, the I love yous and sweet dreams.
I then usually settle down into my favorite chair, with a cup of green tea, and reflect on how blessed I am.
Four amazing daughters. Young ladies that bring tears to my eyes and make me aware of an unconditional love I never thought possible.
No matter what I may have screwed up in my life, I did four things perfectly right.
I truly enjoy these times with my girls. Look forward to it, actually. As they have gotten older, our conversations have turned more serious. Religion, sex, peer pressure, bullying, college.
It makes me want to tuck them in even tighter every night, knowing it is going to end so soon. Knowing the time is coming to a close where I can wrap them up warmly in a cocoon and protect them.
Brianna's life is now full of SAT scores, scholarships, time with friends and so soon, only months away, freedom on four wheels. I long to tuck her in the tightest but know I cant. So I just give her a hug, kiss her and tell her I love you. It is that time when I have to start letting go. I am prepared for it, but not ready. But I have to be.
Kristin and Kaitlin are at the cusp. Not quite old enough to let go of, but not quite young enough anymore to be kept so close. Its a delicate balance at 13. Tonight, I found them laying next to each other and I flashed back to just a few years ago; a time when they never slept apart. They always slept facing each other. They were my two peas in a pod. Now they are growing up and growing apart. Which is healthy. Its a rare thing for me to tuck them in with one blanket. Usually, they are each in their own bed, with their own blankets. Kaitlin usually has a book. Kristin is reading a fashion magazine. Each year, they become my twins less and less.
Erin is still the easiest to tuck in because she waits for me. Or comes and gets me. Its our ritual. Climb into bed, grab the lucky pet that will be next to her that night, the giraffe blanket that was the last gift from my mom to her. Make sure her feet are covered, blankets under her arms and up to her chin. Tuck the blankets around her, a tight hug, big kiss, I love you. Sweet dreams. Usually she tells me she hates that she forgets her dreams and hopes, this time, she will remember them in the morning.
I hope she remembers them too.
This is my favorite time of the day. When everything is done. When its just me and my girls and some stolen moments together. When I am still able to be the mother of children, even as they are rushing out of childhood so quickly. The one time of the day when the teen years don't feel so scary.
There are no longer bedtime stories. Those have been replaced with conversations. There are no more calls for a glass of water. They get it themselves. There is no longer the need for constant check-ins of them at night. That has been replaced with my hope that one day, down the road, that they continue the tradition and tuck their own children in, with hugs, kisses and 143. With wishes for sweet dreams and a few more moments of conversations before eyes get heavy.
Sweet dreams, baby girls. 143.
I truly do love you more.
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