Lately, bedtime has been extra special. When I can, I try to send Noah out of the room and read with Max before his last nursing. (Now bottle, we're finally weaned yay!) Noah could never sit still long enough when he was this age, so I savor these quiet moments.
I have started lying in bed with Noah for a few minutes after his lights are out to talk. Most nights we cover a range of topics, from his most recent favorite color to naming his "talking cars." But sometimes we talk about our day, and if I observed something he was having problems with, we might talk about what was hard for him and how he could do or say it better the next time. It never ceases to amaze me how much he grasps even now, even as he's wriggling in bed and kicking the walls.
In the back of my mind, I am always aware of the fact that I am the mother of boys, and my days of them wanting to talk to me are numbered. They will forget these bedtime routines long before they grow up, but I will always treasure this time when their hearts and minds were open and we could connect in this little way.
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