My favorite time of the day is when I put my kids to bed.
"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious!", you say. "Once you put those kids to bed, you will have some time to yourself."
Now, I'm not gonna lie. I like having time to myself.
But that is not why this is my favorite time.
This is my favorite time because it's just me and the boys. There is no TV or iPod or Hot Wheels or Legos.
It's just me spending time with each of my boys. It is me focusing on my little guys, enjoying the miracles that are them. All of the worries, noise and static fade away. It is me holding my precious boys, snuggling and content just to BE. Reminding me of what is important.
We read a story, say our prayers, talk about our day and what we will do tomorrow. I always end the night by telling them how much I love them and how proud I am of them.
The other night, after putting Baby L (2) to bed, it's now J's (4) turn.
We read "Llama Llama Holiday Drama" (our current favorite bedtime story) and we say our prayers. Afterwards, I ask, "J, what is Christmas?"
J answers, "It's Baby Jesus' birthday!"
We talk about what Christmas means and I proceed to tell him the story of Baby Jesus. I even sing 'Away In A Manager' to which he sits up and sways to the music. He asks me to sing it again so of course I end up singing it about 8 times.
J then says, "I want to give Jesus a hug."
Oh dear. I think I am going to die of cuteness. My sweet, sensitive boy. He wants to hug Jesus?!?! That is too cute for words!!
I say, "Oh J! That is so sweet."
Looking at me in earnest, J replies, "Can you pretend to be Jesus?"
I answer, "Sure, sweetie." And J gives me the sweetest hug in the history of hugs.
And then I died of cute.
I died, went to Heaven and saw Jesus.
To which He says, "I know, right?!"