The twins' bedtime, not mine, though I'd gladly let it be mine.
I think I could put them to bed every night. Seriously, I want to tell their parents, if you ever just want me to drop by at ten for half an hour, I'll do it. They have a lullaby cd, and their bottle, and their fuzzy sleeper jammies. I get them dressed, turn down the light, give them their bottles, and start the music. I stretch for awhile, which is pleasant in and of itself. When they're halfway done, I turn the light all the way off, leaving just the small turtle lamp they have as a nightlight. I burp Lilly. Eventually I take Patrick (who always finishes his milk first) to brush his teeth, then come back and get Lilly. I pick them up, one at a time, and give and receive a squeeze of two little arms around my neck. I lie them down, telling them I love them and to sleep well.
It's always hard to come back downstairs to the harsh kitchen light and the leftover dishes. I want to stay in that somnolent, peaceful room for hours; I want to fall asleep like that. I want to be able to do this every night.