hush, little baby.

My favorite time of the day is bedtime. Not my bedtime, but my children's bedtime. I'm not a mean mom {well, it depends on who you ask}, but I absolutely look forward to that magical time of the day that is 8:30pm {give or take 15 minutes}.

Once 8:30pm hits, the whole house sort of "sighs" and things return to a slower pace. My blood pressure drops to a more normal level. The cats come out of hiding. The dog calms down. And, the television resumes to it's regular programming of all things Food Network or HGTV related.

Order is restored the household.

Most importantly, their 8:30pm bedtime means I do not have to witness another conversation like this - well, at least not for the remainder of the night:

Let me preface this story by saying that the kids were playing in Aidan's room - laughing, giggling & carrying on {a sure sign that something 'bad' is going to happen} - when all of a sudden his bedroom door swings open, I hear Aidan crying & Malia squawking...

A: "Sissy made my tooth bleed!" (Aidan has a loose tooth.)
M: "No, I did not!"
A: "Yes, you did!"
M: "No, I did not!"

Adam jumps in and asks what happened...

A: "Sissy kicked me in the face."
M: "Well, he wanted me to!"

Oy.