Brantley Prayers

I LOVE bedtime - and not only because the little people around my house are finally quiet and NOT MOVING. We are a very routine-driven operation around here, and life deals up a lot of sameness. I am not sure that is a word, but is should be. It means that our days typically look the same, and at bedtime this is especially the case.

It goes a lot like this...

5:30 - Dinner

6:00 - Jeff puts the three little boys in the tub, and I do the dishes. I lay out PJ's and lunchboxes and clothes for the next day. Jeffrey takes a shower.

6:20 - PJ's on (a wresting match with Andrew) and juice cups made.

6:30 - We must "rock a minute" - this is what Blake and Brantley say, and so Jeff rocks Blake and I rock Brantley. We have tried switching, but that does not work.

6:35 - twins in bed

6:40 - rock Andrew with final bottle - put to bed.

7:30 - prayers & loving for Jeffrey - in bed.

8:00 and beyond...Mama & Daddy Time - HURRAY!

The best part, though, is putting Brantley to bed. After I have rocked and breathed in that wonderful smell of clean little boy hair, I tuck him in. He requires 2 woobies, a truck or train (he will tell you which one) and some juice.

The nightly words are like this...

Brantley :say prayers?

Me: Yes, say prayers... and I start... Thank you, Jesus...

And Brantley takes over...

Brantley: T-ank you Esus for...ummmmmmmmmm.....mama....dada....chicken nuggets....ummmmmmmmmm......Blakey....ummmmm...Big J....ummmm....Andrew - ...for kissses....for lovings....for more kisses....for home....for Mam-mas (plural) and Pap-paws (again, plural, not sure what that is about)...for Mimi...for Poppy...for Annie (the dog)....for Donalds (that would be McDonalds)....for AMEN.

Every night is some variation of the above - some nights he is thankful and long-winded and some nights his list is limited, and I guess we are all a little like that. He think blinks up at me with his dimpled cheeks and blue eyes, and always says...BYE Mom. sigh. If he didn't still poop his pants, I'd want to freeze the little booger at this very age.

Thank you, Jesus, for Brantley.