go go go stop

I just got back from Back to School Night for Frances. Next week I'll go for Gabriel. Yesterday was soccer, tomorrow is Girls on the Run, the annual breakfast meeting for the St. John's health center began my day yesterday and a long faculty meeting made for a late reunion with my husband that night. This season of new beginings - all worthy endeavors - is well underway. But sometimes it feels as if I am barreling all day from one thing to the next and if I don't stop and take a breath I'll head straight over the falls.

I know I've told you lots about Beatrice's bedtime. Come to think of it, it might be the only thing I ever blog about anymore. Homemade Bedtime. Hmm. But I digress: the point is that it is a precious still moment in my day. Indulge me here - I need to revel in those moments and hold them close, to balance out all that barreling.

Mike has taught Beatrice to say I love you when they say goodnight to each other. I love you Papa. It sounds a bit like: Ah ruv you. Papa. It is the sweetest thing in the world.

Tonight after all the night night, I love yous, we entered her room. She turned her light off ("light OFF") (she likes to narrate as much as her experience as possible these days) and settled into the rocking chair with me to nurse and sing. She paused, looked up at me, and smiled.

I love you, Papa.

I repeated her words: I love you Papa.

I love you, Gabriel.

I smiled back and repeated: I love you Gabriel.

Hello, Didi. I love you.

I thought my smile would get so big it would start to pull my face apart. That sweet hello! I repeated: I love you Didi.

Then she just grinned back at me in silence.

....I love you, Beatrice, I said.

More grinning. Silence.

What about Mama? ...I love you Mama?

Then she said it. I love you. Mama.

Even though I'd asked her to, I still nearly choked with emotion (laughter? tears? something beyond those categories?) as I told her I loved her too.

And then she laughed! She was smiling with her eyes and nose and chin and teeth and it got so big and wonderful that she laughed. Transcendent.

Then she abruptly got serious, turned towards me and announced: nurse.

It all lasted about two minutes, and it was the most joyful moment of my day. Off the charts joyful! My heart sings with the memory of it.

a family is everybody all together

Gabriel explained to some dear friends who were over for dinner recently that Beatrice's favorite time of the day is dinnertime, and her favorite part of dinnertime is when we all hold hands and sing the Johnny Appleseed grace. She smiles, slowly scanning every face at the table, and when it is over she punctuates the song with a joyful Ah-men! 

Tonight, just before bedtime, I was carrying Beatrice to say night-night to Gabriel in the kitchen, when we passed my phone sitting on the counter. I noticed Beatrice look at it and could hear the wheels turning in her head. 

Would you like to say night-night to Gramma, too, Beatrice?

Yeah, she replied. Call Gramma, call Gramma, say night-night, night-night Gramma, night-night Bardolf!

She has only Facetimed my mom, so somehow the phone is like a magical portal to Gramma. But Gramma is in Ashland and was probably finishing up a matinee at the Shakespeare Festival when we called, so she didn't pick up. Beatrice looked crestfallen watching her own disappointed face in the phone, listening to the relentless ring that refused to end with Gramma's face.

You know Beatrice, I told her, we can call Grammy and Poppy on my phone, too.

Grammy! Poppy! Call Poppy! Say night-night Poppy!

So we did. His wireless connection was not so hot; it was short and sweet. Then Beatrice said goodnight to Frances and Michael, then we went into her peaceful darkened room, where she looked at me expectantly: Nurse, Mama.

She falls into position, so sleepy and happy. Do I love this time of day? Oh, I do. Every night at this point I say, would you like me to sing a song? And she grins blissfully and snuggles closer and sings-talks in response: vatetrain vatetrain, which means Freight Train Freight Train, which she has insisted on for her bedtime song ever since she first heard me sing it many weeks ago, which sometimes makes me sad because our song used to be Wild Mountain Thyme - which I think suits her perfectly - but she was adamant.

It's okay, I love Freight Train too. I sing it Elizabeth Mitchell-style, and sing about all the places I would like us to visit, or the places we love, or the places we are considering for Mike's sabbatical next year, or the places in the world I am so sad for. Going to Syria, going so fast. Going to Liberia, going so fast. 

But tonight I would begin singing, then she'd pull off and look up at me and say Gramma? Soon?

Yes, we'll see her soon.

Poppy? Grammy? Soon. 

Yes, we'll see them soon too.

And then ... back to the song and nursing. But then, a few moments later: tell Poppy ah ruv you. Ah ruv you.

Yes, he loves you too.

A few moments later: See Bardolf? Soon. See Bardolf soon.

Does she even like Bardolf? Last time my mom's labradoodle was here she spent a lot of time looking at him sternly and reprimanding No Bardolf, no no. But he's part of her family. And Beatrice is a connector, a lover of gatherings, a small person who is happiest in the heart of her family, when everybody is all together.

Oh Beatrice! I like it too. I like how much you like it. You help us all to see just how precious it is.