I never saw myself as an author of children’s books, but I suppose if I were to write one, my first book would have to be, “Ducky Wigglebottoms Goes To Bed”.  It will be the story of a precious and amazing little Ducky who had a bottom that wouldn’t stop wiggling.  All day long, and all night long, the Ducky…well, she wiggled.  Her mind wiggled, her feet wiggled, and her little voice box warbled rhymes and songs and stories.

Then one day, her Momma said, “DUCKY WIGGLEBOTTOMS!  Go to bed!”  She tried and tried, and tried.  And tried.  But she couldn’t go to sleep.  After a very long while of trying everything (more than once), her Momma pulled out a magic potion in a large dark bottle and said, “Ducky, this orange liquid will stop your brainiest of brains from wiggling.  But you have to believe that it will, and you have to stick to your bedtime routine, and try very hard to help it along by resting quietly in your bed.”  The Ducky, wanting desperately to sleep like the rest of the Ducks, tried her very hardest, and after 7 days, she not only fell asleep in 30 minutes, but she stayed asleep all night long.  No more night terrors.  No more bad dreams.  No more sleepy Ducky, and no more sleepy Momma.

A National Ducky Holiday wasn’t created in her honor.  Fireworks weren’t shot from the Statue of Liberty.  But in her little house, it was cause for peaceful celebration.  There was so much praising and joy, no one cared too much when Momma put the magic potion back on the shelf, and told Ducky it would be best to save it for another day.

School was the same, except for Ducky’s teachers mentioning that someone seemed to have an extra wild case of “Ants in the Pants” after her first few good nights of sleep.  Naps were the same, and still much needed.  Ducky still sang funny songs and made up funny rhymes.  She still found letters in a predictable order (some people call these things “words”) to be far too rigid for her liking.  She still chose to do things in her own special Ducky way.  And maybe every few nights, after a bad cold, or after an especially eventful day, Ducky might ask Momma for her magic potion, and Momma was happy to oblige, knowing that the distances between requests were growing longer.  Ducky was proud of herself for jumping her life’s biggest hurdle.  Momma was grateful for friends and family who never gave up that an answer would be found.  And most importantly, if you drive past Ducky’s house in the middle of the night, be very quiet, because her whole house is….sleeping.

Shall I wait for my Newbery Medal, or just go ahead and a clear a place on my wall now?