Tonight, imagine you’re not mom, but the 2-3-4-year-old in your house. Imagine that instead of struggling to get your child relaxed and in bed asleep so you can get one more thing done on your task list, you are the one getting tucked in. You are the one who wants one more game, book, and snuggle. You are the one who wants momma to stay until sleep takes over. Imagine being in the mind of a toddler.
The Mind of a Toddler
“It’s time for bed” you say.
I hear you, but my bed still looks like a bridge, perfect for jumping and climbing.
“Time to brush your teeth” you say.
I hear you, and jump over to you, roaring like a lion. Lions have big teeth, and they need brushed too.
“Did you pick out pajamas?” you say.
I point to the clothes on the floor as I leap on the bed. Picked, yes. Put on, not yet.
Then I see you putting clothes on the baby. I want you to put mine on too.
“Baby” I say, “I’m a baby. Put my clothes on!”
You glance over mid diaper change with half smile, half exasperation on your face. Will you do it today or have an excuse not to?
“One moment, baby” you say. Yay! I wiggle around while I wait, babbling.
You pull off my clothes, smiling as my face pops out. I love when you smile.
You pull on my pajamas, looking me in the eyes and talking to me. My heart smiles.
I leap to the bookshelf for final stories. I look at the pictures while you get situated. I look at you, at brother. Which side will he be nursing on? How closely can I snuggle?
You pick my book first, hurray! I love your voice when you read, the subtle changes when the different characters talk, how gentle you sound near the end. I snuggle closer.
You finish the books and ask me to get in my bed. I don’t want to leave the snuggles. I don’t want to leave your warm side. I fuss and complain. You ask again as you work on settling brother down. I complain louder, wishing you’d understand how much I want your warmth, how safe I feel by your side. You reach out and touch me, trying to soothe me, but I don’t just want your hand, I want you next to me. I squirm, I roll over by brother, I touch, I grab, I whine.
You’re getting frustrated. I don’t want you to be frustrated, but sometimes it means you’ll come over.
“Your bed” you say sternly. It’s so hard to obey when you’re so close yet so far.
You sit up, brother wiggling under your hand. I climb into your lap. I breathe you in, weaving my hand in your hair.
You take a deep breath. I do too. This is my happy place, me and you. I snuggle deeper into your chest, your arm, your lap. Maybe I’ll just sleep here tonight.
Too soon, you move. You give me a squeeze, whisper softly in my ear. I don’t want my bed, but I go, slowly, your squeeze still imprinted on my skin.
I settle in, watching where you go. You lay between me and brother. We all wiggle into the perfect snuggle. I hold your hair again, then find your hand. My eyes feel heavy, but I want to enjoy your touch. I ask you a question, then another. You answer quietly, quickly, then remind me it’s time to sleep. You pray, blessing me. Gods word flows through me, and I feel my wiggly feet resting in the bed, my mind slowing down.
You turn over. “Stay!” my hands say, grabbing for you, half asleep. “I am” your hand replies with a gentle squeeze.
I feel safe, loved. My body relaxes into you and the bed. I sleep, comforted, loved, together.
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Thanks for reading today, friend! Have a blessed and sunshiny day!
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