Last night I was getting ready for bed. Josh is out of town at a conference, so I was left alone to lock up for the night. I went to make sure my kids were covered with blankets, kiss them, and peek at their innocent-baby goodness that only comes out when they are sleeping. Hannah stirred a little bit, saw me, and reached her arms out for me. I bent down to give her a love, and she just squeezed with all her Hannah squishiness. The soft baby smell (that also somehow is only around when they're asleep - awake, they smell like the big people they are becoming - ew!), and the clearly-loved way she squeezed my neck - it melted my heart. She then looks up at me in all her innocence, eyelashes fluttering, and says, "Can I sleep wiff you?"

Who am I to deny her a cozy spot in my bed when she is so obviously precious? So I cuddled her up and we tiptoed past the boys' room (lest this sleepover become public knowledge) and headed into my room.

The only problem that arose was when I turned on the TV (my new habit/addiction - falling asleep to the TV. I like to set the timer, find something to barely watch, and drift off. I figure it's kind of like my own grown-up version of a nightlight). Hannah immediately props her pillow up with a little too much eagerness, clearly now wide awake, and says, "What're we watchin'?" Mind you, it is now about 11:30 p.m., and that early morning routine is looming in the back of my mind. But, being the diligent, careful parent that I am, I said, "Grey's Anatomy," (re-runs have begun on Lifetime, Dr. McDreamy every night...yum!)

She watched pretty intently for a few minutes before the commentary began. "Who is that girl?" "Is she going to have a baby?" "Why is she kissing that doctor?" "Why is that lady so angry?" "Did she have a baby at the hospital?" "Did you have your babies at the hospital?" And then the one question that parents everywhere dread and feign deafness to avoid..."WHERE DO BABIES COME FROM?"

That's it, lights out. Gotta get some sleep. Goodnight, Hannah. Nope, TV's going off. We've got to get our rest. What's that you say? Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you because I'm almost asleep. No, we'll talk about it in the morning.

Next time I'll be strong. No, I won't answer that question with all the vigor and educational parenting I can muster. Next time I'll make her stay in her own bed. That way I can greedily watch TV all by myself without having to face life's questions from a four-year-old at 11:30 p.m., when every child in the world should be sleeping - and every Mama dreaming of Dr. McDreamy.