I have often enjoyed sleeping in a bed other than my own (now don’t go getting all gross on me) I mean the pull out sofa in the living room, on the deck out back or on the floor in front of the fireplace. As a matter of fact, when Sean and I lived in Watertown, we spent 5 nights out of seven during the winter months, sleeping on the pullout sofa by the fireplace. There is a sort of delicious, doing-something-special kind of sensation that is all too often left behind with childhood. Unfortunately at 35 it tends to result in a morning-after filled with regret (I said don’t be gross!) it is a creaky, achey, what-made-me-think-that-was-a-good-idea remorse.
Briar has taken after me with a kind of zeal for “great ideas”and “uh-ventures” that is simply impossible to resist.
“Can we camp tonight, mama? C an we camp right here by the fireplace like we did yester-the-other day? It will be the most, best greatest camping trip night of ever!”
I looked at her, her eyes an icier, more captivating blue than ever before. I turned to Sean, his face filled with delight, knowing that I was looking through my daughter to my four year old self.
“But you won’t sleep, I don’t think,” I said wanly.
“Please, mama?” She said straining toward me as if held by ties that only I could loosen.
“Yeah mommy. It will be the best candace ever!” Avery chirped.
Briar turned to correct her and then though better of it and with head cocked and eyes twinkling, “Yes, mom, the best candace ever! Can we?”
Again I turned to Sean, he responded with a snort and a halfhearted elbow to the face to mask his smirk, “I want to see how mom plays this.”
“Ok,” I said. “Let’s camp.” What followed would be best compared to a fusing of 101 Dalmations scampering mayhem and a Superbowl celebration– it was all leaking, spewing sippy cups and gathering of princess and Dora sleeping paraphernalia, complete with one very dramatic fall down the stairs by the child who has already sported one cast in her first two years.
We lit candles and started the fire, gathered stuffed animals and tucked everyone in. We said goodnight. Gave kisses and hugs. Had water and peed. Had more water and peed more. We told stories and cuddled, said goodnight in loving but stern voices. We left the room, we returned to the room, we rolled our eyes, we clenched our teeth.
It is in those moments when they are testing us, daring us to waste this fleeting time when they want and need us, that I struggle the most. I can handle a tantrum at the check stand, can’t cope with a broken heirloom or perilous kitchen activity, but these things, they wear on me. Many times I hold my time, keep inside the heat-of-the-moment exclaims, but other times, well no one likes to talk about those, do they?
We made it. I nursed Fin to sleep while Sean played his guitar in the flickering light, filling the room with his warm voice. The girls yawned and cuddled, they talked to stay awake, circling his song with this bedtime-stalling dance of theirs and then eventually it was quiet. The only sound the occasional trill as Sean’s fingers absentmindedly strummed the guitar.
And then they slept and as Sean confirmed they were finally down he lifted them in his arms and carried them gingerly to their beds. It seemed only moments later as I snuck my first cup of coffee that they stampeded down the stairs and asked with confusion, “Did we camp last night? Did we have the best candace of ever, right here in this bed?”
I nodded and smiled at her. “Yes, honey. You camped.” She looked at me, then at the bed. “But mom, mom? How did I not end up in this bed? How did I get to my own bed?”
The next smile was for me, imagining all the times ahead when Sean and I will do something without their knowing, some little act that keeps them safe* or rights a wrong. Our secret way of loving them, even when it’s hard and anonymous.
*Thanks to the people who’ve kept us safe, even when we haven’t known or have, but just haven’t known enough to say thanks.
You guys? Awesome parents.
What a sweet story! When I was little, it was a treat to sleep on the couch when we were sick. I still let the kids do that now, and somehow, I get enlisted to sleep with them. Right in front of the fireplace, and although we wake up with that same achey, "why did I do this?" feeling, it is still a treat!
Your girls are lucky!
The best candance ever! Another beautiful post my friend. Sean said to me once, "I hope my girls love me as much as you loved your dad." Come on! He has absolutely nothing to worry about:)
yester-the-other-day?
so cute.
Living room camp-outs are the best! Our first 2 "camping trips" ended up in our living room- the first due to unexpected rain, and the second because of an unexpected ER visit with F. Still, the little ones seem to find it just as exciting as "real" camping- so why not?
I LOVED sleeping in places that were not my bed when I was little. We would turn our living/dining room into "forts" made with tables, chairs, sheets and piles of books. By morning the sheets would have slipped from their book stacks and the room would be destroyed.
I need to build a fort for my girls and let them sleep in the living room. I wish it wasn't Sunday because I would have let them do it tonight. Well, now I have a plan for next weekend. Think I can rent out Sean to come play the guitar for them?
PS – I love how sweet your girls are, I don't know how you ever say no to them.
You are doing this parenting thing so right.
Brings back very sweet memories.
Oh Amanda, this post is outstanding… as always! :)Debra
I love the image of Sean singing the kids to sleep.
I'm no musician, and singing is right out. So it's generally a book for me. I read them something exciting for me, like Don Quixote or The Odyssey, and they get it, perhaps for the first time.
That's cool.
And I love the way you capture your kids and their original, Seuss-worthy words. My daughter's latest word is "happying." When someone is down, they need a "happying."
Nice post, Amanda.
Awwwww! The Boy camped out in the Girl's brand new room last night because she decided at the last minute that she was scared. THere was an outbreak of camping all over!
That is the bestest candace story ever.
yester-the-other-day…. heehee
Zoe is always saying "you remember when we did it on the nother day?"
I'd like to think that in our future… we will allow for things like "camping".
What a sweet memory for them to have. Great job mom.
And a well said "*" as well. 🙂
How sweet. What a memorable experience for both you and your children. I remember doing this kind of thing as a child. I will definitely have to do it with my lil' man soon.
We've talked about "real" camping with our two, but maybe trying it first in the living room is a better idea. Sounds like you had a great time. Thanks for stopping by my blog.
Is or was your husband in Afghanistan? Because my brother is over there now. His wife and 3 kids are in Ohio.
I love their reaction in the morning. What a sweet story!
I just found your blog. This was such a great post I am hooked.
If reincarnation exists, I want to come back as one of your daughters.