What we always used to do.

Life with small children is a life of repetition, rhythms, and rituals.

Like bedtime for Evie. It happens predictably every night. I can go through the motions of it with my eyes closed. But as she grows the tiniest bit each and every night as she sleeps, that bedtime ritual is evolving. I have to remind myself to keep my eyes open. Even in all of my busyness. Record the little details.

Evie, time to get your jammies on!

She can open the pajama drawer by herself now. Which jammies will she pick? Princess nightgown, Hello Kitty, or Tinkerbelle. She still needs help undressing. An arm or head gets stuck exiting her play clothes. I help her step into fresh Big Girl Panties. She puts her nightgown on by herself and doesn't want it buttoned in the back.

Okay, now go wash up...

I used to brush her teeth for her. I used to have to put the toothpaste on for her. But now, I don't have to help with any of it anymore. She can get her own washcloth out of the cupboard. Stand on her step-stool and wash her hands and face and brush her teeth. I listen from my room to make sure that I hear all the appropriate noises. Lengthy silences indicate dilly-dallying. Unexpected sounds indicate trouble. The other day I heard a splash-kerplunk and went running in to find she had accidentally slipped bottom-first into the potty.

Now go give Daddy night-night kisses...

I turn on the "twinkle lights". I set a fresh cup of water on her dresser. If it's not too late, I'll read her a story or two in the lamplight. She will negotiate for one more. I tuck her in. We make sure pink bunny is tucked in, too. We talk about a few things. Say thank you to Jesus for a few things. She asks me to stay and snuggle with her for a little while. And hold her hand and pat her back and sing the song I used to sing to her when she was a baby. 

I always used to ask what she was gonna dream about. Now she doesn't wait for me to ask. The dream will vary occasionally to include Daddy and the Tummy-babies and perhaps flowers, marshmallows, chocolate, flying in airplanes, etc. But the stock answer goes like this:

"Mommy, I'm gonna dream about you and me sliding down a rainbow."

I hear that almost every night before my little girl goes to bed.

But, like I said, the rituals evolve. I recall that not too long ago she ALWAYS used to say and do so many other little things. Things that all of a sudden -- oh! -- she doesn't do that anymore. She used to ALWAYS adjust her door open to a particular angle to let the right amount of light in.  She ALWAYS used to say, "If I need something, I'll come running out. Okay?" Oh! And remember when she ALWAYS used to ask me to make up a story about A Monkey and A Shark? It's been forever since I told a good Monkey and Shark story.

And so much more. But I'm forgetting. How can I forget these things we always used to do? Someday, I realize she'll forget that bit about the rainbow. The rainbow dream will fade away, as dreams do.

That's okay. Because I caught it.
Right here in words. I caught it.

Comments

[Steph]

What a sweet post for Miss E to look back on one day when she's all grown up. Love that you're recording memories for her! Love that she's dreaming about sliding down rainbows with you!!

[Denise]

and soon your kids will come into your room to kiss you good night because you go to bed earlier than them (not all the time but sometimes). Or maybe this is just true for me. love the photos : )

[Megan@SortaCrunchy]

JILL. I am absolutely breath-catching sobbing. SOBBING. Sobbing.

It's so, so true. The rituals, they fade. And we don't notice. Until we do. And I think I won't forget, but then I do forget.

This is heart-shatteringly beautiful. The keys on my keyboard are wet with evidence.

(Thanks for the gentle reminder to catch all the words we can.)

[Cori]

I was almost going to cry but then Evie's thumbs-up saved me. Too cute and happy to let the tears drop!

Hey, I'm curious, do you do a blog-book? Or put some of these posts into a baby book of some kind??

Beautiful post. And so, so true. Their rituals are so endearing. I love when I leave the kids at my moms or Big A's moms and I have to explain some of these little tidbits- sometimes they sound so funny when you explain them to someone else in a directional sort of way!

[Kristen]

I too was fighting back tears caused by the lump in my throat until I saw the thumbs up photo.

As always Jill - perfection.

Last night my usual "Good night, Love you Mommy" was replaced with "I hope a fly does not land on my under-nose".

[jill]

I had no idea I had sat down to write such a tear-jerker!
I just wanted to hurry up and write that stuff down before it wandered out of my cluttered head.

Thanks for reading, everyone.

Cori - I haven't made a blog book yet. I have so much material... I think I'd have a hard time narrowing it down. I should do it though. Maybe for Christmas.

Kristen - I am cracking up about "under-nose".

[Aunt M.]

A definite sweet, tear-jerker. They grow up fast. I am so glad you are capturing the memories and sharing.

[Anna]

Oh, melt my heart!

So glad I tumbled into your blogland today. You made me smile.

[Rita]

I am a mother of a two year old girl. She's changing before my very eyes.

I suppose I'm trying to say: I know just what you mean.

Thanks for writing it down. It made me smile.

[Rachel]

Keep your memories close and they will be there for as long as you can remember! :) StumbledUpon this heart warming bedtime story. Thanks for sharing.