Flying solo with the boys at bedtime always drags out the get-to-sleep routine--but, truth be told, I love the one-on-two time I get with them. (Normally, one of us reads to and puts Kai to bed; the other of us reads to/tucks in Jules - we alternate the match-ups each night.)
But when it's just me doing the nighttime routine, all three of us (me, Jules, Kai) snuggle into Jon's and my bed and read books together. Then I take Kai into his room for a little rocking and encourage Jules to go "read" books until I get Kai sleepy enough to stick him into his crib. This is usually unsuccessful - Jules doesn't like to stay in his room while I'm (right next door) with Kai and he flings the already-cracked-a-tad door to Kai's room wide open, runs in and starts asking questions. Completely random, arguably absurd questions. (I did this, too, as a kid and, if you ask Jon, he'll say that I still do it now when I can't fall asleep). This Q&A session, of course, rouses Kai, who pops up and joins in, repeating everything Jules says. It's cute and funny - but it's also frustrating.
But tonight, I rocked Kai until he murmured "crib" and then I went back into my room where Jules had decided he wanted to wait. Then we had this conversation:
Jules: "Mom I was waiting so quietly in here."
Me: "Yes, Jules you are getting so big."
Jules: "Yes, Mama. I am learning."
Me: "How are you learning so much?"
Jules: "Everyone is learning me. I'm learning from my cousins." (Whom Jules loves but sees like three times a year.) Cute.
..."I'm learning from my teachers. And the people across the street." The people across the street?
I'm learning from everyone in the whole wide world." Oh, yes, it takes a village. Is he quoting Sesame Street or something?
"And I'm learning from candy." Um, ok. You were on a roll... until this.
Then he ran into his room and jumped in to bed.
~ Fast forward 20 minutes or so. ~
I hear the gate upstairs creaking. We leave it open when Kai is in his crib. Jules is lying on the floor just behind it. "I can't sleep," Julian tells me. "My brain won't shut off." These are my words. I've lent them to him because I know just how he feels when he can't fall asleep. Except I know where my brain is. Jules apparently is still working on that. "Feel how fast my brain is moving." And with that he puts is his little hand on his chest, over his heart.