I don't usually put my boys to bed at night. That's my husband's job and I take care of the girls. But it's the end of the school year and he's been gone late twice this week, graduation and staff gatherings.
So I put them all to bed. The boys hardly stop talking until I make them. I sing "Mama" songs, different from the ones that Daddy chooses. And they ask me questions like "who is the Devil?" and "where is he?" and "what does supernatural mean?"
And we talk about things when the house is quiet that don't come up in the crazy wild days that are our life. In words that 6 and 3 year olds can understand I try to explain to them the things that are not of this world.
Sometimes I'm hushing and rushing so I can get things done and have some time to myself in the semi-quiet of the night house. I try to be patient and answer their questions as best I can, but there is always one more, and one more, and... a 3 year old who thinks he will have a collection of weapons and pick the best one to fight Satan while I try not to laugh.
It's not so easy to listen to boys who babble in the middle of everything, sometimes just to get attention. But sometimes I think this is the most important Mama job, just to listen and hear what their hearts are asking.
This is a post prompt from The Gypsy Mama. Join in? If you don't have a blog or don't want to write there I'd love to have you write with me, even in the comments!