I lay in bed with my newly eight year old, scratching his back and talking about our day. As exhaustion took over, he asked for my pinky, which he holds every night for just a few minutes while I sing Silent Night. It’s a silly little thing that brings him comfort and allows me a few moments to hold on to “my first baby”.
It’s a ritual we’ve been doing for many years. The song sometimes changes (although I’ve been singing Silent Night every night for the last two years, but the routine is the same. When we don’t do it, he becomes unraveled. I never realized how much he needs it until we attempted a sleepover at a neighbor’s house. He was home at 9:15. “I couldn’t sleep without you singing and Daddy saying Good Night.” I can’t say I minded one little bit.
For years, I’ve called our bedtime routine “ridiculous”. Because sometimes it is. Ever since my kids were beyond pacifiers and a quick lullaby, it’s been a long, drawn-out chain of events. Brush teeth. Read books. Both parents need to come in to each room to talk. It’s never quick. Whenever I try to rush it, it always results in tears and yelling. Not fun for anyone.
It’s only recently that I’ve realized what a gift our bedtime routine is. Sure, there are days when I’m all “JUST GO TO BED!”. There are days when I am craving that one hour on the couch, so I can zone out to whatever I’m currently binging on Netflix. But lately? Lately I’ve been thinking of the “last time”. It’s coming. My son is eight years old. We are fast approaching the years where he’ll yell down “Good Night!” and that will be it. He won’t want snuggles or hugs. He won’t want to talk.
So yes, our routine has become a gift. What started out as a stalling tactic has fast become something I take advantage of — tell me about your day, what was the best and worst part of it, how are your friends doing, did you learn anything new that you don’t understand or is confusing? When kids start elementary school, it’s their first venture out of your little familial bubble. They are going to learn things you don’t want them to learn, earlier than you want them to learn it. That’s why I’m grateful for these few moments where they’ll talk to us, share with us.
Parenting is hard. We all know that. Each stage has it’s rewards and challenges. But you blink and the stage is over. It’s a parenting milestone of sorts, that last time. And that’s what I’m currently worried about. I’m not going to know it happened. A day or two will go by and all of a sudden I’ll realize that it’s over. And I won’t have had the chance to prepare, to say goodbye. Then I’ll grieve.
So every night, I stay a little longer, I sing an extra song, I hold a little tighter. Because this could be it. This could be our last time.
I just hope it’s not today.
Hilary says
This is so sweet. My husband does the bedtime routine and my middle daughter innocently reminded me that this was the only time of day that he has to spend with them. They enjoy reading with him and even though I sometimes want my eldest to go off on her own for independent reading (she’s in 3rd grade), that sweet comment from her kind of stopped me in my tracks. Why should I take that time away from them? It’s true that that’s the only daddy-daughter time they get during the week. And until they are old enough not to want it, we have to cherish the time.
Erin L. says
That is exactly what my husband has said to me. I used to try and rush him…so it would be over and we could have our time. But then I realized this is probably the best part of his day. And now (with a little attitude adjustment and me going back to work) it’s the best part of mine.
Andrea Updyke says
I so get this. I love our little routine too. So sweet.
hchybinski says
Our routine could most likely be classified as ridiculous here as well . . .but it’s truly the one time that my 10 year old and I connect without other interference. He’s 10 – should the bedtime routine take an hour? Probably not – but someday he will be 16 like his older brother and not need mom to help with bedtime.