Let's talk about bedtime.
That little hour of the day, that falls in our family between 7:00-8:00.
One hour. That's all. But it's one hour that can turn our glorious dancing into disaster.
Some nights are awesome and I want to squeal "Bless the Lord, Oh my soul!"
However, other nights... other nights I am convinced I am the only mother alive who is in great need of a white jacket and an institution.
One hour earlier I was B.E.G.G.I.N.G. my sweet little cherubs to drink their milk at dinner. Sixty minutes later, they are camels.
"Mom, can I puh-lease have my 13th sip of water? I'm going to die! Do you NOT CARE THAT MY THROAT HURTS?"
No. Truly, NO. I just do not care. I care that I have been awake since 5:00AM and once I hear that little snore come from your lungs, I am going to sit down, pour a warm cup of tea and go to my happy Hulu-Land.
And two books a night is clearly a case for calling CPS on me because "My friend Jane's mom reads her THREE books a night. THREE, MOM."
Well, good for Jane's Mom.
My youngest daughter’s current delay-tactic: theology questions. Um, no. You do not get to pull "Church-Staff-Kid" card and ask me an ecclesiology question in hopes that it will earn you 20 more minutes of awake-time. I finally catch on to this array of questioning and I just proclaim (as any sane woman does) "NO MORE! No more Jesus questions... No more God questions... No more Bible questions... JUST. GO. TO. SLEEP."
Then, every ache and ailment comes to life:
My tummy hurts
My legs are itchy
My throat is dry
My arm is falling asleep
I forgot to put my hair in a ponytail! I'll get knots!
It gets so intense that I wonder if my girls pediatrician needs to be changed to a geriatric doctor.
Don't send me hate-mail... I absolutely positively adore my children more than my next breath. I totally am aware that this time is flying by and I will completely miss these nights. But I also know, I miss my sanity! I lose all rational mama-thinking between 7-8 and become like a robot:
Brush your teeth.
Go to the bathroom.
Drink a sip of water.
Get in bed.
Get under the covers.
Close your eyes.
Kiss. Kiss. Hug. Hug. Snuggle. Snuggle.
Then... just as the crazy is finally wearing off and my girls give-way to much needed sleep...
I stand in their dark bedroom, stare at their beautiful sleeping faces, do a quiet Whip-and-Nae-Nae and think:
We did it, girls.
We survived one more night.
You are the greatest kids on this planet.
Your sleep is restoring and reenergizing your little bodies so we can embrace a great day of life all over again tomorrow.
And I am reminded: I absolutely, postively adore and love being their mom.