Last night was Day 2 of the Great Go to Bed Quickly Quietly and Happily Campaign.  Martin is doing pretty well and earning double-star credit on the shrimp spreadsheet for his trouble.  But, Sophie?  She's holding out and last night she pulled out the big guns.

We started at 8:30 and followed all of our bedtime rituals.  We snuggled, I talked softly, and she told me when she was ready to make the move to her bed.  This was just before 9:00 which I thought was excellent progress.  I sat on the floor near her bed and stared off into the closet, the soothing strains of Shawn Colvin playing in the background.  Sophie tossed and turned.  She dragged her feet along the slats of her bed making a stick-against-the-picket-fence kind of sound.  She whispered "I love you" one hundred times, then, suddenly, I sensed that she was still.  She was quiet.  And I slithered across the floor like a Navy SEAL and opened her door a crack.  I saw motion from her bed as I stepped, closing the door behind me anyway.

"Mommy?  Mommy!  I miss you!  COME BACK!" she wailed from the bed, now sitting upright, legs hanging over the end of her bed.

I stepped back into the room, summoning my inner Kindergarten teacher (hereafter known as "IKT").  But after an hour of bedtime and a stiff back from sitting on the floor imagining myself as still as a statue, I was tired.  I felt a shift.  My voice said "Lay back down", but it sounded like it was coming from someone else.  Instead of my IKT, I had inadvertently conjured Miss Beadle and sounded just like she did when she would send Willie to the corner.  Sophie laid back down, closed her eyes and reached for my hand.  I smiled, and suddenly the room smelled like Lemon Verbena.