Faith did a great job sleep-training the kiddos while I was away. Caleb now pretty much sleeps through the night, but the amazing thing is now Anne goes to sleep without needing us in the room. She actually tells us to leave while she settles herself to bed. We don't know what goes on in the bedroom, but the scene in the morning is normally one of hilarity.
On a normal morning, we'll find Anne sleeping in the midst of what looks like a disaster zone. Pillows strewn around and the rolled up mattresses toppled over. These nights I kiss her goodnight then topple the mattresses so she doesn't have to get out of bed to do it. Just yesterday night we went in to see her fast asleep wearing a pillow-case like a crown. It reminded me of the time when she was a baby in the pram, and the youths at church put a makeshift hat on her that made her look like the Pope.
After a day at work, my normal home routine consists of getting everyone fed, bathing Anne and reading her bedtime stories before tucking her to bed. Faith makes sure fat boy there loads up on lactose before heading off to his night-long (hopefully) voyage into slumberland. It's only after everyone's tucked in when we sit beside each other, like comrades after a hard day's work. The company is great, and tonight we had vanilla ice cream.
The awkward moment of the night came when Anne popped out of the bedroom to pass Faith her blanket and caught sight of our little tub of sin.
"What's that?", she asks, knowing <strong>exactly</strong> what she saw.
Faith and I felt like we did a million moons ago, teenagers sitting in front of the television while her parents popped in every now and then to make sure we weren't engaged in some forbidden activities like holding hands.
We 'fess up, offer her a spoonful of ice-cream. She skips back to bed. I tuck her in again and kiss her goodnight.
She doesn't speak; mouthful of ice-cream, and savouring every last melting drop.

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