lulla-BYE

i posted earlier how it has recently become a nightly ritual that susanna rocks in her glider immediately before she goes to sleep. if chris and i are both home -- which, thankfully, is usually the case -- we tend to divide and conquer. it's just worked out that i have been the one to put susanna to bed for the past week or so, and she and i have it down to a science. i turn out the light, she climbs into my lap, and we rock. she'll then request, "please sing my song, mommy," and i happily oblige. her song is, of course, "oh susanna". i sing the three verses softly to her and repeat the last chorus slowly one extra time. she knows exactly when it ends, for she immediately gets down from my lap as soon as i've finished and walks over to her bed, ready for sleep. it is such a perfect way to end our day. thursday evening i wasn't home for the first time since we had begun our rocking routine. when i got back, i asked chris how bedtime, and her song in particular, had gone. i love my husband dearly, don't get me wrong ... but i only ever hear him sing during the hymns on sunday morning, and let's just say that those are not the most holy of times during the church service. i tried to imagine his off-key warbling of "oh susanna" and found the idea to be rather comical. "did you sing to her?" i asked. he looked rather sheepish, and i thought he might have forgotten, or perhaps skipped it intentionally. "well, i tried," he responded. "but i got halfway through the second line of the song and she turned to look at me and said, 'daddy, please don't sing anymore.'"