.carols.

There is, of course, the normal bedtime-- the merry-go-round of trips to the bathroom, drinks of water, requests for stuffed animals, tears over the end of play, and fussing at sisters. But then occasionally there are other nights. The little girl falls asleep in your arms while you are singing Christmas carols, and the middle girl curls under the blanket you have knit her, and the oldest sighs a tiny sigh when you turn out the lights. The joy of mothering does not depend upon such moments for survival...but in such moments, the joy indeed glows bright as you remember that it is a grand and glorious and fleeting thing to be singing your daughters to sleep.