“Goodnight noises everywhere.” (from Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown, Illustrated by Clement Hurd)
I have come to love putting my son to bed each night. Before Benjamin came along, we would go about the noise and rush of our lives until we felt exhausted enough to fall into bed and sleep. There was no wind down; the day slammed right into the night. Now, we have a ritual of turning down the lights, beginning to speak more softly, reading a calm story, and rocking, rocking, rocking. We are saying, “The day is coming to a close. Now it is time to rest and dream.”
There’s something very comforting and reassuring about putting to bed the noise and the concern, exchanging the rapid beat of the day for the peaceful, slowing pulse of the night. What if we, as adults, could remember how to say goodnight and let our eyelids fall heavily, like final curtains on the drama of the day? As I read, “Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon” to Benjamin, he eases into dreamland without a care in the world. And a kind of bedtime magic happens in which the baby is teaching me. Teaching me how to slow down, how to be quiet and still, how to say Goodnight.
Goodnight budget. Goodnight mess. Goodnight weight gain and spit-up stained dress. Goodnight family drama. Goodnight worried mama. Goodnight to-do list and all that is unfinished. Goodnight squeaky chair. And goodnight thinning hair. Goodnight noises everywhere.