Bedtime

Bedtime at our house, though mostly enjoyable, is really an endurance race, the last man child standing wins.

We have routines.  Things involving hygiene, like brushing teeth and semi-annual baths.  Little girls might play quiet games with mermaid barbies swimming peacefully in the tub but my baths are full of boys who don’t play with barbies.  There are full small-scale battles being waged.  There are boats and army men, pirates are added and usually  bath time involves a water-soaked kid traipsing through the house looking for the perfect water safe (and sometimes not-so safe) toy to add to the battle.  By the end of the bath the whole bathroom is wet, I’m usually wet, and someone is crying.  You would think that by year four the kids would be used to having their hair washed with water, but every night it seems to be a surprise.  Every night there are intense negotiations.

Jake (screaming):  No water!!!!  Don’t get my hair wet!!!!

Me:  Do you think you’re the wicked witch of the west?  Don’t worry, it will be fine.

Jake:  How about if we don’t wash our hair?

Nate:  How about if we only wash our private parts?

Jake:  How about we just get out?

Me:  No, No, No.

And after the hygiene we read stories and sing songs.

I am the reader and Dave is the singer.  If for some reason one of us is missing for the routine the kids get extra stories or songs in lieu of the other.  Currently Nate likes any song which has to do with Jesus or God.  I think I could listen to them sing  “Jesus loves me” over and over and never grow tired of their tiny voices loving Jesus.  Currently a favorite  is “This little light of mine”.  They learned it at Vacation Bible School and sing it over and over.  It’s been a long time since I sang “This little light of mine”,  all I could remember was that I needed to let it shine and not to hide it under a bush.  No, No, No.

I told you singing was not my forte.  Last night I was missing during bedtime.  I was probably doing something terribly fun like washing dishes or going to the bathroom.  The excitement never stops around here.  While I was living it up, Dave was taking requests for songs.

Jake:  I want to sing “This little light of mine”  but like Grandma does it.  Not like Mom.  (thaaaanks)

And they started singing.

This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine.

Hide it under a bushel? No!
I’m gonna let it shine
Hide it under a bushel? No!
I’m gonna let it shine
Hide it under a bushel? No!
I’m gonna let it shine
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine.

and then they got to this verse:

Jake:  Don’t let Nathan blow it out,

Dave:  Wait!  Nate won’t blow your light out.

Jake:  No Daddy, that’s how it goes.  Grandma said.  Nathan, it’s another word for the Devil.  I’m not gonna let Nathan blow out my light!

I’m not sure why Jake would think we’d name his brother after Satan…

Once the singing and reading is done the light negotiations begin.  Nathaniel is terrified of the dark.  I’m pretty sure that he’s afraid because of this.  He would be happy if we left all of the lights on and gave him a flash light along with a glow worm.   Unfortunately lights are rather conducive to play time which then results in never falling asleep and that just leads to cranky kids and mom the next day.  We compromise on the light being left on in the hallway.

Every night we find Nathaniel in the doorway.

Dave:  you can go sleep in your bed.  It’s very comfy and warm.

Nate:  No, I am a little bit older and a little bit stronger.  Jake is asleep and I need to stay awake for him.

And every night, he falls asleep, last, in the doorway.  He’s the protector.  No amount of convincing will persuade him to sleep in his own bed.  No bribe, no loss of nap, nothing.

While on vacation this last week I was privy to a bedtime routine which I’m usually not part of.

A little bit of the back story:

Dave always tells me goodnight as we fall asleep. More often than not, the moment my head hits the pillow I am asleep, or very near sleep that it’s hard to squeeze out that last bit of energy for a response.  One night he told me that his whole life him and his brother told each other goodnight.  He then told me that the first night in his own apartment how awkward it was that there was no one to say goodnight to and how glad he was to never have to feel that way again.

My sister is ten years younger than me.  We’ve never shared a room either, so we’ve never had that routine, but I found it to be a very sweet story.  I’ve often wondered if they are unique or other siblings who share a bedroom say goodnight to each other.

On our way home from California last week we spent the night at a hotel.  It was very late and we were all very tired.  We made a pallet on the floor for Nate and Jake to sleep.   Jake was fussy and Nate cuddled up close to him.  I turned out the lights and I heard quietly from the floor:

“Goodnight Jakey, I love you”

“Goodnight Natey”

Maybe the best and most important bedtime routine of all.

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