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Archive for the ‘bedtime’ Category

I battle a special kind of kryptonite. My weakness is small boys in the night time.

They come, sometimes sneaking and sometimes padding on quick feet, to my side of the bed. If I know they are there, I lift the covers and invite their warm sleep bodies in. Often, I will feel their warmth on my back or their breath in my face after they are already snuggled in deep and back asleep.

The youngest one is still soft in the way only young children and babies are. That intoxicating smell of infancy clings to him with a fierceness and I breathe it in every chance I get. The oldest one is lanky already, but his cheeks hold kisses as easily as ever.

I never have the heart to send them back to their bed, with tears in their voices and Momma on their lips. I make their dad do it. His heart is harder than mine. I would rather wake with a crick in my neck and an ache in my back then send them back to their own room.

One day soon, they will sleep all night and never make the journey to my bed. They will grow to be taller than me and only kiss me when prompted. When they lean down to kiss me, I will breathe deep and remember what they smelled like when they were small in the night time.

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We say prayers for many things in our family. At meals and bedtime, we let the boys lead the prayers. They usually choose to sing the mealtime prayer and switch off saying the bedtime ones. Wash, who just turned three, has the idea of continually giving thanksgiving down.

Wash’s Prayer

Thank you God for eatin’
Thank you, God.
Thank you, God for playin’
Thank you, God.
Thank you, God for dinosaurs.
Thank you, God.
Thank you, God for sleepin’
Thank you, God.

My children continually remind me to be thankful for the simple things in life. Thank you, God. Thank you, God.

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Attention children! Getting up before the sun rises, a.k.a. before a decent hour, is annoying in the least and uncivilized at the worst. Please refrain from doing this. This had been an announcement of the Parental Mental Health Association of the Smith Household.

This morning at 6am, Gideon joined the already full bed, so that all the humans were squashed together, snuggling. I had Wash next to me with Gideon next to him. Neither of the boys was going to go back to sleep, but I was letting them talk to each other while I pretended I might get to sleep for 10 more minutes.

I had my arm across Wash and resting on Gideon, whose side I was patting. Gideon said, “Mom, can you keep your hands to yourself?”

Sheesh.

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My kids are asleep, I have a glass of sweet red wine from Haak, the winery where Ries and I got married, in my hands, and life is very good.

It is amazing to me that I have a 3 month old that sleeps through the night. He goes to sleep around 8:30 and wakes up between 3:30-6am. I seriously did not know babies slept like that. I thought all my friends who told me that their babies slept through the night were either lying or had just turned off their baby monitors and did not hear their babies crying.

It turns out normal babies DO sleep through the night and that Gideon is just one of those kids, like I was and am, who is simply a terrible sleeper. He still wakes up at least twice a night and needs tucking back in at the very least. I can literally count on one hand the times he has slept the entire night through.

Wash is amazing and sleeps and sleeps. This means I can have a glass or two of wine or beer without much worry after he is down. This is a new concept for me and I am loving it, especially since we have a delicious 80 Shilling in one of the kegs. The other keg has a Belgian Wit which is quite tasty as well. I like the 80 Shilling better though; I am a sucker for anything in a kilt and that includes my beer.

Because my boys are adorable, here is a picture of Wash and Gideon from the Fourth of July weekend. How can anyone else think their kids are cute when compared to these two?

There are plenty of other pictures showing off their adorableness on flickr.

It was a fabulous weekend over the Fourth that Wicket ended by first rolling in and then consuming rotting fish. You could smell her upwind from miles away. A thorough tooth brushing (which she did not enjoy) and two baths later, the smell was better but not gone. The ride home was even less pleasant than you imagine it was, punctuated by Gideon saying, “Someone smells like stinky fish.” Yes, she does and she is lucky she is alive and we brought her home. Sometimes I wonder what flavor of crazy sauce we ate the day we decided we needed another dog.

In my defense, I thought I was getting another couch potato, delicate flower. Instead we got a crazy, insane chewing machine who eats poop, and ignores commands that do not meet her approval. Lucky for her, she loves Gideon and is a pretty girl. They are her only redeeming qualities.

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Evening Prayers

We say a prayer before eating and as long as Gideon has sat at the table with us, he has participated in this family ritual. During the day, we also bless our breakfast and lunch as well. I alter the prayer a little when it is just Gideon and myself, but we basically pray for similar things, three times a day: a blessing on the food, thankfulness for our blessings, and choices made to use the blessings well. Gideon folds his hands and listens.

I realized this week that it is past time for us to start adding night time prayers to Gideon’s bedtime routine. Last night, after reading three books, but before the songs, I told Gideon we were going to start saying a prayer before bed. Everything was fine, but Gideon reminded me of something I left out. This is the prayer that we said after folding our hands:

Me: Dear Lord,
Thank you for a beautiful day. Thank you for Daddy who takes good care of us. Thank you for Mommy. Thank you for Puppy Dog.
Gideon: Food
Me: Yes, thank you for the food we have to eat. Thank you for Jesus. Amen.

It was hard not to laugh, but it did make me smile real big.

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Gideon is getting bossy for one with so few years, but occasionally, his bossiness is appreciated.

Last night, Gideon and I had finished dinner and I was sitting on the couch. It was about 7:15. He came over, patted my arm, and pointed to his room. I asked him to, “Show me.”

He led me down the hall, pointing. Gideon walked right up to the rocking chair and pointed again.

I asked him, “Are you tired?”
“Yes,” he answered, nodding and smiling.
“Do you want milkies?”
Again, he nodded and smiled.
“You can go to bed if you want.”

At that he walked into the hall, where he could see Ries, who was still eating, and said, “Bye-Bye,” and walked back to me.

I fed him and he was asleep by 7:35.

I think he has us trained.

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