Small traditions

We have Aubrey down to a pretty good routine.  With pretty much everything and not just bed time.  Some of it has developed over time, and it's pretty funny.  Like at dinner, we eat with her and watch a Sesame Street.  Half way through dinner, she looks at me, holds out her sippy cup and goes "mo? mo?  pwees?"  So regardless of whether it needs refilling, I will go to the refrigerator and fake pour milk into the sippy. 

 

 

Come bath time, when we take her upstairs she races to the bathroom.  She has to get there before us.  I start the bath and line up her bath toys as she knocks them in one by one.  And she always has to get in right away when there is basically no water in the tub.  After we wash her off, she hands me the cup we use to rinse her off with, and we count as she puts her bath toys in the cup and we dump them out.  Then we hit our hands on the tub, and then we tap with our finger nails so that I can crawl my hand to her and tickle her.  We play and then it's "Pajama Time!"  (look up the book Pajama Time if you're not sure, but we always sing it to her.)  She gets the diaper, lotion, the little swimmer's diaper over her regular one because she has now taken to taking the diaper off in the middle of the night, and brush her hair.  T and I take turns on who holds her while the other reads, and she always takes the book to read to her butterfly and monkey.  It's usually a good hour while we hear her babble away and jump up and down in her crib.  It's times like those where I do wish I had a video monitor just because I'd love to see what she's doing. 

 

 

My favorite tradition of ours?  It's when we get home.  We go to the mail box to get the mail, she always has to push the garage door button and gets so excited to see it go down, and then we're ready.  It's time to race.  Since T normally has to carry her (ahem, 31.7 lb child), she grins at me while I wait.  As soon as the shoes and socks are off, she's off and running to the dining room blinds, trying to get to them before I do so she can smack them.  I usually beat her and pull the cord and move them up so she can't reach them.  Then she laughs, turns around and is off running to the living room blinds.  Lately she must have caught on because she'll totally fake me out like she's going to the dining room and turn around and sprint to the living room.  And a couple times she's tried to hug/block me.  But it's hilarious because we have to do it every time.  If I have bags I need to put down first, she will wait, giggling and ready to run. 

 

 

I'm going to treasure moments like this, and I know some day when she's grown, I'll look back and see that little curly-haired girl, giggling and running in the house trying to beat me to the window.  

 

Sure, it's predictable, but it's our tradition.  And that's what makes it special.