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Thank You For Bedtime

I’m not really sure how we fell into the pattern, but when we are both home and available, my husband and I divvy up the bedtime routines. And somehow, he usually ends up putting the girls {who are five and seven} to bed, while I put “the baby” (who is two) down.

I’m sure our little system started back when I was ginormously pregnant and physically unable to lean over the bathtub to bathe the girls. Or maybe when I was constantly nursing a newborn, trying to convince him to sleep in his nursery while his sisters giggled next door with their daddy. Either way, somehow the tradition has stuck that Mama puts “the baby” down. I know, I know. He’s hardly a baby anymore. He’s just about two-and-a half now, and almost as verbal as my seven-year-old. He’s potty-trained, he knows all of his letters, and goes to pre-school three days a week. Let’s face it…he’s well on his way to being a little kid.

But. He’ll always be my baby. I mean, all three of them will always be my babies…but he is my final baby. Admitting that is hard for me to do. Although I panic at the thought of being pregnant again or having to start all over, I also envy the tiny snores and sweet baby toes that my new mama friends still get to enjoy. I’ll always be up for snuggling the closest available baby, but I fully recognize that it won’t be my own. And as ready as I am for the next phase of my family life, I tear up even as I type this.Thank you for bedtimeAnd so, I’d like to thank my husband. My better half. My baby-daddy. For letting me have bedtime. For letting me completely coddle that almost-two-and-a-half year old for a while each night. For letting me read him too many stories, sing him too many songs, and then turning out the light and just rocking him for a few more minutes. I cherish those little moments. And he loves them too…I know this because I never have to coax him up into my lap or to even turn around and lay his sweet head down on my chest.

During the day, I’m your average mommy….often annoyed at his two-year-old antics. I don’t use baby talk with him, I encourage him to clean up after himself, and  give him choices to encourage his independence. Soon we’ll be fighting over dirty clothes on the floor and unfinished homework.   But for now, after bath time, he gets my undivided attention and the chance to be a complete “Mama’s boy.” And because his daddy is willing to put “the big girls” to bed every night, I get to soak up a few more precious moments with “my baby.”

Thank you dear husband, for bedtime.

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