Deep Thoughts

Frequently, when it is my turn to get Blythe to bed, she will ask me very deep questions after we've had story time.  I can tell she's been thinking about something and wants answers, and in the quiet as I am lying next to her, it obviously seems a good time to talk.  The only problem with that is this: I almost always fall asleep next to the children, and in Blythe's case, almost always before she is asleep.  She waits until we've turned off the light and said prayers, and I am breathing deeply and just on the edge of consciousness to ask her question.  I hear her speaking, but nothing registers.

Here is an example of last night's question.

Me: (Breathing heavily, really moments away from beginning a REM cycle) Inhale.  Exhale.
Blythe: Mom, what is that stuff that's colorless, doesn't smell, you can't taste it, and it can kill you?
Me: What? (More heavy breathing)
Blythe: That stuff that's colorless, doesn't smell, you can't taste it, and it can kill you?
Me: (Nothing. No response.  I'm practically sound asleep)
Blythe: Mom!
Me: What?!
Blythe: I'm asking you a question.
Me: What?
Blythe: I'm asking you a question.
Me: (Sort of sitting up and opening my eyes) What?
Blythe: What's that stuff that's colorless, doesn't smell, you can't taste it, and it can kill you?
Me: (Long pause as I think hard about what she might mean . . . Iocane powder . . . ??) Ummmm . . .
Blythe: It starts with carbon or something.
Me: Oh! Carbon monoxide?
Blythe: Yes! Carbon monoxide! Do we have a thing that senses carbon monoxide in our house?
Me: Yes, we do.  It's downstairs and would alert us to the presence of carbon monoxide.  Now Blythe, close your mouth and stop talking.  Go to sleep.

I kissed her goodnight and got out of bed, hoping that with the carbon monoxide concern settled, she'd be able to go to sleep.

Thing is, the questions are sometimes very serious and require a thoughtful answer, and I'm hardly ever in a mindful position lying prone and practically asleep, drifting off to Lala Land, to give her question the attention it deserves.  She recently asked, "Mom, when will Jesus come again?" and "If Brandt and I die, will you adopt other children?" and "If you die, will I go back to live with KeyBug?"  I love opportunities to talk to the children about serious issues, and help them work through concerns, fears, matters of the heart and belief, and I want the children to feel like they can come to me and I will take them seriously.

I would also like those moments to be when I'm coherent.