Pachelbel Bedtime by David Crawford

Why don’t you want to say goodnight? Why is it that you do not go to your bed and sleep tight until the morning light is come and cast its haze upon your eyes and then you wake to greet the day that God has made and rejoice for you are part of it?

Why do you insist upon the crying and the moaning and the whining and the screaming and the tantrums and the yelling and the kicking and the snacking and the biting and the hissies, the “One more drink of water?” and the “One more book please, daddy?”

And now I just want you to go to sleep. I don’t want to hear a peep from either one. The day is well past done. And I’m about to lose my mind. I’m gonna tear up your behind so “Nighty-night. And don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

Now it is so quiet and so peaceful in this once-chaotic house we all are sleeping and we’re dreaming and it’s as quiet as a mouse but what is that familiar sound tiptoeing nearer - Little steps approaching closer? No, it can’t be what I’m fearing and it’s –

Not! It’s just the cat and she is purring so contently and she snuggles at my feet. To be sure, it’s quite endearing. My lids relieve my eyes of all the stress that they were feeling and I turn my head to sleep but then I feel somebody staring and then

“AAAAAAAAAGH!!” She’s staring right at me. Her eyes are glazed with sleep. “I nearly wet the sheets upon my bed.” Her lips are trembling as she speaks, now there’s color in her cheeks. She looks so frail; my heart begins to swell.

Now she lies beside me and she breathes so easily. Her dreams are happy and she sighs a tender sigh so peacefully. She knows her Mommy and her Daddy and her Sissy love her greatly and we sleep throughout the nighttime never ever more sedately and now,

Morning casts its light upon the pillow where her head begins to stir. I try to wake her so her kind and gentle dreams I don’t disturb but as I pull her from her slumber ever slowly, I know in my heart of hearts exactly where this all is going and the

Crying and moaning and the whining and the screaming and the “Daddy you’re so mean! How could you interrupt my dreaming?”, the brushing of the hair and then the clothes they hate to wear. I need the check to pay daycare. I can’t forget her teddy bear. and then I

Sign her in at her own school. Off to work I travel too. My mind’s a wreck. I keep hearing songs from Shrek. I work all day and then go home. * All my stress is mostly gone. My kids I see and I pull them in closely. Then we

Start to do the homework, and the dinner must be started, and gymnastics and piano and the groceries must be carted, then the smallest one is crying “Won’t you hold me” like she’s dying and the oldest one’s frustrated with her homework though she’s trying. And dinner’s on the table but it’s cold because we waited for the children to get back from practicing all their cheerleading. Now the broccoli is so nasty, the macaroni’s pasty and the meat is tough as leather. Really, nothing is quite tasty.

So the crying and the moaning and the screaming and the whining start again but now the target isn't sleep it’s homebound dining and I raise my hands in wonder as I look around the table. How can anyone survive? Is anyone out there enabled? Then I

Think about the laughter when times are not so hectic and I know that though my stomach aches it's likely not gone peptic. I see their smiling faces as on swings I push them gently. When I hold their little hands, life could not go more contently.

So the crying and the moaning and the screaming and the kicking play a very tiny part of all the time my life is ticking and the good outweighs the bad. I am more happy than I’m sad. For all of this I should be glad. ** I’ve had it better than my Dad. You bet I have.

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Tags: bedtime, pachelbel, song
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