Will You Check on me When I Sleep

I was really strict about bed-time when Eliot was an infant.

I was medium strict about it when Naomi was an infant.

I believed that strict infancy bed-times led to strict toddler bed times and good sleepers in general.

Sleep is a big deal to me.

Many good nights of sleep are what I believe allowed me to get through college and grad-school with great grades and tons of hours of work and a very amateur athletic 'career' (I'll call it). I had a strict bed-time for myself when most of my friends were out partying. Yes. Major nerd.

Sleep. Glorious sleep.

I'm not a sleep-er-in-er. Just a person happiest on a good nights sleep that was preceded by about a life time of good nights of sleep.

Lately the kids ask me to sit in their rooms while they fall asleep.

This is not the model of strictness I once imagined or applied.

Tonight when I had sat in the chair long enough to go almost batty and Eliot still wasn't sleeping I told him I was going to go and that I'd check on him later.

He smiled. Will you come look at me when I'm sleeping?

Yes. I said.

Will daddy come too?

Yes. I said.

The other morning I shared with the kids what they looked like when they were sleeping.

Naomi, her arms out wide, soul open to the world, completely vulnerable.

Eliot, his arms curled close, belly down, head in the pillow.

They giggled when I told them this.

And tonight Eliot betrayed himself, a little boy, glad to be checked on. Glad to be watched.

And me, glad to be there. Glad to see.