Something magical happens to my kids late at night. Maybe all kids.

When we put them to bed, hours past their bedtime, a strange phenomenon occurs.

They are so overtired too exhausted to think straight, yet they know all the right things to say.

They’re too tired to fully commit to the “We’re not tired!” chant so on these rare occasions, they just say exactly what every parent wants to hear.

Our three year old, instead of telling me that the vertical stripes on my shirt aren’t very flattering or forgiving tells me, “Could you snuggle with me and rub my back?” Sometimes she adds, “Like you’re my boyfriend in the movies so you should close your eyes and tilt your head to the side?” But I ignore that last bit and just enjoy the sweetness of a child looking for some Mommy-time.

My seven year old who spends her life aiming to please will be even more giddy than usual as she deliriously announces her pillow case has slipped off onto the floor but she’s too ridiculously overtired to reach for it so she’ll just hum a few bars of Katy Perry’s Firework before drooling and ad-libbing through the last verse and falling asleep mid, “Come on let your colours burst…..Mommy.”

It’s my nine year old who sends me to bed with a huge smile on my face.

Our first born doesn’t like to try new things, especially in front of a crowd.

We had kids lining up to learn how to bump, set and spike during our annual, impromptu volleyball on the beach clinic/beer tent but not our Hanna.

She is consumed by the promise of beach glass and has no interest in touching a volleyball, a game completely foreign to her and bound to make her feel inadequate if it doesn’t go her way.

The other night, between, “Make ‘em go ah ah ah, as they shoot across the sky, sky, sky…..” Hanna gave me my usual quick, “Goodnight Mommy, I love you” hug and then crept out into the kitchen to whisper, “Great day today Mommy.” I replied, “It sure was Sweetie.”

Hanna: Let’s make sure we get that game of volleyball in tomorrow okay?

I love a sleep deprived kid.