After Lights Out

I have fond memories of those bedtime moments stolen after lights out but before slumber would arrive.

Before I married Ian, I actually shared a bedroom with a roommate, Cal, who loved philosophizing about everything and nothing as much as I did. We shared many a late night pondering the mysteries of the universe in our shared bedroom.

And I remember sharing a bedroom with two other girls in college. We would giggle about who liked whom and who was dating whom.

And of course there were the nights during church youth retreats where dozens of girls in sleeping bags would whisper their secrets into the darkened ceilings of a communal cabin.

I can even include a short period sharing a room with my younger brother when my grandparents were staying with us. Who knows what we talked about, being separated by gender and 4 years. But I remember significant moments lying in our side-by-side twin beds with only inches of walking space surrounding us, trying to reconcile our separate lives as little league star and honor roll geek.

Such intimate, fun, memorable moments.

I didn't expect to witness my children engaging in such moments until well into the tween years, but it happened last night. Both kids were lying in their beds awaiting slumber, a bit unhappy about being unable to play or be held. Kiran started whimpering from her crib in the corner of the room. Jackson made some funny little sound from across the room. She laughed - that sweet little baby chuckle. That must have encouraged him because he made another little sound. She giggled in response, prompting his own laughing fit. Before long, the two of them were just giggling together. Ian and I just listened from outside their door, enjoying their shared moment. I wanted to grab a videocamera to capture the moment, but I didn't want to miss the moment myself either. So I'll just have to remember the delightful sound of the infant and the toddler sharing a moment of laughter after lights out.

Clarice