Toys are moved inside and garage doors begin to close. Dirty kids are wiped clean in baths and shorts and t-shirts are traded for p.j.’s. Snacks are eaten and the living room is cleaned. Wrestling with Daddy before teeth are brushed and bedroom doors are closed. This is bedtime in our home. One of my favorite times of day.
On one level bedtime represents freedom, a moment of peace, a break from the chaos of young kids, and an opportunity to spend quality time with C. On another level, though, bedtime represents treasured time with the kids. Since we are two on two C and I take a kid to put to bed, giving us each some alone time with the kids. On most days Charlie wants Daddy and Chanelle wants Mommy. We are okay with that. Our kids have a routine. It works for us and for them. At times, though, I wonder if I’m creating “scheduled” monsters who are unable to be spontaneous.
We start with the bathroom “thing”.
Pick out your animal.
Time to read a book or two or three.
A song or two or three.
Time to say Goodnight!
That is it. Our routine. There are days (more than I care to admit) that I want to rush these moments so that I can have my time. When I am so exhausted and so spent from a day full of questions, running, chatting, playing, and refereeing that I just want to be done. Once their doors are closed and I know that the day has ended I am reminded that these days will pass more quickly than I want. It won’t be long before they do not want my kisses and stories at night. I am over-whelmed at this thought. Seriously, overwhelmed. I know that there is no stopping it. . . they will grow, change, and become more independent. I must let it happen. That reality doesn’t stop me from sneaking in their rooms one last time to take a peak and steal a kiss. What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?
Good night my Sweet Ones. . .