Magic is Passed Down—A Little Bedtime Ritual

A child's day is full of "I want to play!"

I swallow the urge to rush them, but honestly, there are days when I have no patience left.

I have no choice but to call out to them to keep their bodies clean, as they get dirty so quickly.

Bath, brushing teeth, meals—
When they play in between these things, time just slips away.

I want to play along, but there are days when I just give up and say, "I can't do it anymore!"

On days when I rush my daughter, she accuses me, saying, "I want to take it slower," and I am overcome with self-loathing.
Even so, there is one "ritual" before bed that we never skip.

Our own little magic

Before bed, I hug my daughter tightly, and we both make big hearts with our hands.
Then I ask her,
"What kind of dream will you have tonight?"

She thinks for a moment and answers,
"I'll fly in the sky on a rainbow-colored unicorn."
"I'll dance with Mickey"—
And then, with a beaming smile at me, she always says this:

"You'll be there too, Mommy!"
She wants to be with me even in her dreams.
That one sentence melts my heart every single night.

At first it was for my daughter, now it's for me too

Before bed, I hug my daughter tightly, and we both make big hearts with our hands.

This ritual started when my daughter was afraid of the dark.
"If we make hearts with our hands, the ghosts won't come"—
"You won't have bad dreams."
I started it because I wanted to reassure her.

Now, I don't feel settled unless I do this bedtime ritual myself. Because when my daughter can sleep peacefully, I can sleep soundly too.

Perhaps the peace of mind between parent and child is connected in this way.

Magic is passed down without us even realizing it

As I was writing this, I suddenly remembered.

This bedtime magic was something I was given when I was a child, too.
My mother used to hug me tightly every night.

That feeling of being able to sleep peacefully remained within me unconsciously.

And now, I am doing the same thing for my daughter.
Magic is passed down like this, isn't it?

The me of that day became the me of today,
and it connects to my daughter now.

Thank you for reading this far.
May your day be a wonderful one.