With the advent of a brand new school year, and the (alleged) return to a more disciplined lifestyle, I am going over my habits with a fine-toothed comb.
(Or should I say a felt-tip pen?)
(I have to write things down to process them.)
One of the areas I have not been happy with is bedtime. We have prayed as a family for years now but after that—generally speaking—we say goodnight and the kids shuffle off to bed. Sometimes I’ll swing by and tell them a story, sometimes I’ll sing them the Salve Regina—though the boys (alas) are outgrowing such things—but it’s not a constant, our bedtime routine.
Suddenly, though, I crave one.
Suddenly I need to be tucking them in—each and every one of them.
They are growing, these kids, with the speed of lightning and against my will. I am not one of those moms who is cool with the idea of them all leaving the nest; I am not ready for them to not be little.
(Yes, I have some emotional baggage.)
(Yes, I need to let them grow up.)
Cutting to the chase, then…
I have added the habit of tucking them in. It’s not second nature to me—I am tired at night, and want to curl up with a book and/or an old episode of LOST. That’s not the stuff that makes for good childhood memories, though. That’s not the bedtime I want them to have.
We do a butterfly kiss, an Eskimo kiss, and a Mommy kiss on the forehead.
And then I tell them that I love them…
…because oh my goodness, I truly do.
What’s your favorite bedtime routine? It doesn’t matter what it is, I don’t think, just so long as we have one.