Talking in the Dark

Last night, after another summer evening wherein my darling girl didn't want to go to bed, we lay side by side on her twin bed and talked.  The things she tells me are often a conglomeration of fact and fiction.  I have to take a moment to sift through what she says for the nugget of gold -- her true feelings and thoughts.  It's a relief to be able to calm down after arguing and articulate our age-old conflict: she doesn't want to go to bed but I want her to do so.  I can't blame her -- it's hot, it's still light out, and there are a million things she'd like to stay up and do.  But she really does need sufficient sleep.  When she doesn't get it, she's crabby and impatient.  When she does, she wakes up a sweet, snuggly, smiling child.  Hence my motivation to enforce a reasonable bedtime. 

I truly hope we'll always be able to communicate with each other and "make up" even when we don't agree.  In G's frustrated comments of, "I'm not going to be your best friend," usually when I've put her in a time out, I can almost hear her as a teenager saying, "I hate you!" before slamming her bedroom door.