It's 8o'clock-Do You Know Where Your Kids Are?

Yes, I do! They are snug in bed and sleeping. Phew! Who would think that a Saturday night bedtime ritual would take two hours? After dinner, which was mostly liked by all (the Asparagus didn't go over as well as I'd hoped), it was time for baths. During the week, it's hit or miss on baths and not everyone gets one each time we do it. But, Saturdays are different. Everyone gets scrubbed squeaky clean. I started with Ruth. Not too much trouble. I help with her hair, but for the most part, she's self sufficient. She gets out and Grace hops in (literally...) while I begin to braid Ruth's hair. Ruth wants crinkles for meeting tomorrow, so four french braids it is. I get the first braid done and Grace is happily splashing in the tub, "getting her hair wet". I stop braiding to wash Grace's hair and she stands so that I can make sure the rest of her gets scrubbed. At this point, she slips and lands on her bottom, heaving a wave of water up at me. I'm wet, but keeping my cool and Grace is laughing like a loon. She begins rinsing (aka splashing and rolling around all the while singing the Little Mermaid songs) and I go back to braiding. Two braids done, Grace is ready to come out. My mom calls and I chat with her while I braid one more on Ruth's head. Ruth takes the phone to have herself a little chat with Grandma and I turn my attention to Miss A. Now, I'm still a little squeamish about washing her due to the large area of her skull that has no skull. I'm steadying her head for rinsing her hair, when I hear her saying "Owie! Owie!" I jerk back when I realize I'm pressing a little too hard on her soft spot. Ewwwww! I get her out and we proceed to the bedroom for jammies. Many silly songs, attempted and failed hair braiding and a diaper later, Miss A is done. Meanwhile, Chris is washing Dave and I begin the cleanup of dinner. Braid Ruth's fourth and final braid. Once everyone is washed and fully clothed, I review Ruth's Sunday School lesson with her and it's time for the inevitable bedtime. We tromp upstairs for brushing of teeth and prayers. It's like herding cats up the stairs, at the very least and when we finally make it up to the top and get into the bathroom, there is Grace sitting on the counter with her legs crossed much like Rafiki in Lion King chanting something. Good grief! We get through teeth and proceed to the bedroom for prayers when it's evident the Miss A needs her diaper changed (why is it, that they ALWAYS wait for the clean one??). So, Ruth, the dear, runs down for supplies and we take care of that. Then, we finally say prayers and I can feel Miss A tensing up. She's getting the routine down and she knows that next comes bed. The Amen barely clears the air when the wail begins "nooooooooooooo!". We have our usual bedtime chat "you're safe here, I always come up to get you in the morning, etc, etc" and I tuck her in, then David, then I move on to the girls. By the time I arrive downstairs, my adrenaline is pumping and I'm wondering just what we've done here. I look at the clock and realize that it's taken me two hours to accomplish all this. Perhaps we need a shorter routine, or maybe just some baby soap and a garden hose.