Wash. Rinse. Repeat. A wonderful life.
Routines, rituals, patterns. We all have them. Those of us with kids have them hard-wired into our lives. I have been thinking about this recently, because with an eleven month old routines are the spice of life, or rather my bread and butter. They are what keeps the kid, thus me, sane. That being said, as much as I like predictability, wow, sometimes I miss the days of fill in the blank instead of multiple choice questions.
But then today as I was thinking about the evening routine at our house I realized that, strangely, out of routine comes meaning, and then memory... So in the end, it is the routine, the tradition that makes the special moments shine.
Every night when we get home from work with the sweet, sweet boy here is what happens:
1. I spend the first ten minutes with him hugging, kissing, and giving him loving touches. I miss him so much during the day and am soooo excited to see him, I can't help it. He is so lovable and will pat me and smile for about the first three minutes and the last seven are him entertaining himself while his dad and I fawn over him. Tough life, huh?
2. Play. Lately outside as much as possible. Crawling on the sidewalk, walking with the walker, picking up leaves, trying to eat them, ripping them apart, stalking the kitty, and pointing at air plaines as they pass over. Every day this is a little different because he changing soooo fast. Tonight he learned how to hold his feet up so when he is sitting on his little bike/push toy, I can push him along. (It is absolutely, totally engaging to watch him figure stuff like this out every time we play).
3. Dinner. In the highchair, bib on, hands up, cut up food on the tray. Black beans, avocado, corn, bits of cheese, and peaches are currently the niblets of choice, but he will try anything. Drinks of water and feeding him meals that are mushy enough to be fed by spoon. This takes the better part of an hour. Hose off, sometimes bath (a whole other routine for that), or sometimes just a vigorous wash cloth rinse by dad.
4. More play if there is time. In the bath, dance party, or pulling everything out of the bookshelf in his room.
5. At seven on the dot we usually start the PJ routine. Change diaper. Tickle and blow on the tummy until there is great amount of laughter and commotion. Both mom and dad engage here, but dad carries the torch for best tickling by far. Long-sleeve onesie, footy pjs, and yes, another routine. The Medicine routine...Singing the "medi-song" which gets Ben to open his mouth and take the medicine (while smiling) like a champ.
6. 7:10 Benji and Dad pick out books to read. Jff literally picks out six books and says, 'do you want to read "Sticks" or "Chicka, Chicka, Boom, Boom"?' And Ben smacks the one he wants to read. They settle in to the rocking chair in Benji's room with the yellow blanket and the three chosen books, usually "Kufflebunny" last.
8. When the books are all done, they call for "Mama!" and Benji gives me a great big smile when I walk into the room. Hooray! It is time for milk and by now he is usually doing the sign for it as I settle into the chair. As we are getting comfortable, Dad says the good night prayer that he used to say when he was little.
9. We do the good night feed in the dark and by the end he is a rag doll. I put him on my shoulder for the walk over the crib, while I wait for the burp. I linger with his soft cheek against mine, his little breath rhythmically coming out in little bursts, smelling his sweet little boy scent. There is nothing better than this in all the world.
10. 7:30. I put him in the crib with his blanket. He makes a little sound of contentedness, grabs his blanket up to his face, and rolls on to his side. I tell him I love him and I will see him in the morning. He is out.
11. I close his door, take a deep breath and get ready, to get ready for the next day, all the while loving my life, no matter how routine it is right now. It is the little moments in all of this routine that make my heart sing and reminds me how lucky I am to GET to do this with my own child. Truthfully, I can't wait for him to wake up and start all over again tomorrow.
But then today as I was thinking about the evening routine at our house I realized that, strangely, out of routine comes meaning, and then memory... So in the end, it is the routine, the tradition that makes the special moments shine.
Every night when we get home from work with the sweet, sweet boy here is what happens:
1. I spend the first ten minutes with him hugging, kissing, and giving him loving touches. I miss him so much during the day and am soooo excited to see him, I can't help it. He is so lovable and will pat me and smile for about the first three minutes and the last seven are him entertaining himself while his dad and I fawn over him. Tough life, huh?
2. Play. Lately outside as much as possible. Crawling on the sidewalk, walking with the walker, picking up leaves, trying to eat them, ripping them apart, stalking the kitty, and pointing at air plaines as they pass over. Every day this is a little different because he changing soooo fast. Tonight he learned how to hold his feet up so when he is sitting on his little bike/push toy, I can push him along. (It is absolutely, totally engaging to watch him figure stuff like this out every time we play).
3. Dinner. In the highchair, bib on, hands up, cut up food on the tray. Black beans, avocado, corn, bits of cheese, and peaches are currently the niblets of choice, but he will try anything. Drinks of water and feeding him meals that are mushy enough to be fed by spoon. This takes the better part of an hour. Hose off, sometimes bath (a whole other routine for that), or sometimes just a vigorous wash cloth rinse by dad.
4. More play if there is time. In the bath, dance party, or pulling everything out of the bookshelf in his room.
5. At seven on the dot we usually start the PJ routine. Change diaper. Tickle and blow on the tummy until there is great amount of laughter and commotion. Both mom and dad engage here, but dad carries the torch for best tickling by far. Long-sleeve onesie, footy pjs, and yes, another routine. The Medicine routine...Singing the "medi-song" which gets Ben to open his mouth and take the medicine (while smiling) like a champ.
6. 7:10 Benji and Dad pick out books to read. Jff literally picks out six books and says, 'do you want to read "Sticks" or "Chicka, Chicka, Boom, Boom"?' And Ben smacks the one he wants to read. They settle in to the rocking chair in Benji's room with the yellow blanket and the three chosen books, usually "Kufflebunny" last.
8. When the books are all done, they call for "Mama!" and Benji gives me a great big smile when I walk into the room. Hooray! It is time for milk and by now he is usually doing the sign for it as I settle into the chair. As we are getting comfortable, Dad says the good night prayer that he used to say when he was little.
9. We do the good night feed in the dark and by the end he is a rag doll. I put him on my shoulder for the walk over the crib, while I wait for the burp. I linger with his soft cheek against mine, his little breath rhythmically coming out in little bursts, smelling his sweet little boy scent. There is nothing better than this in all the world.
10. 7:30. I put him in the crib with his blanket. He makes a little sound of contentedness, grabs his blanket up to his face, and rolls on to his side. I tell him I love him and I will see him in the morning. He is out.
11. I close his door, take a deep breath and get ready, to get ready for the next day, all the while loving my life, no matter how routine it is right now. It is the little moments in all of this routine that make my heart sing and reminds me how lucky I am to GET to do this with my own child. Truthfully, I can't wait for him to wake up and start all over again tomorrow.
posted by KLOU | 6:25 PM
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