That's what we call the round of kisses and "good nights" after the kids are finally in bed.
And just like runners high after a long run, I often feel that I could do a lap around the yard with "We Are The Champions" playing in the background after I've managed to get them all tucked in.
I don't though. Ok, once.
I wrestle them all (except Lincoln, the man needs some privacy) into the shower and move them through like an assembly line. Like I've mentioned before, there are times when I use that time to talk to them about life because I know I have them cornered and they are basically forced to listen to my teachings.
Not tonight though. Tonight one is whipping the other with a towel, one is using a whole roll of toilet paper, and one is crying cause she likes the taste of watermelon, but not the smell of it in her hair.
Those are all the little things that make you a tad looney at the time, but kind of crack you up later, am I right? At the time I'm all, "Stop whipping your sister!!". But after they are in bed I'm like, "Babe, did you see her wait till she least expected it?? Pure genius!".
They are a giggly mess, and as funny as it is, I'm ready to blow through the baths and move right towards those sweet little loves getting some shut eye.
It's been a busy weekend, I am a tad worn out, and I've finally been reduced to only giving them instructions through my teeth...
"Just. Wash. Your. Hair."
"And. Then. Brush. Your. Teeth."
"Stop! Drinking! The! Water!"
"No! I'm! Not! Mad!"
They stop pushing a tad because they know that when mom is pausing in between words that it usually means she's about to BLOW.
They're smart like that.
They all dry off and I'm now almost laughing at the madness as I collect the laundry and clean up the aftermath of bath time.
Oh, you don't laugh sometimes when you're at the edge of mommy sanity? Well, you should.
We've rounded the corner and the victory lap is almost ours for the taking. I pass the torch to Eric and he bathes Lincoln and we finish getting everyone in pj's.
They're all finally in bed. I kiss all those sweet smelling foreheads and pull the covers up - snug as a bug in a rug.
As I walk down the hall I hear talking, giggling, and anything else they can do to delay the inevitable - so I reach my last resort, I open the door and give them the stare.
You know the one.
The stare with the crazy eyes. Works like a charm.
They finally quiet down and I high five the husband on the way down the stairs. We've done it.
The race is completed for the day. So we rehydrate, kick our feet up, and prepare for tomorrow while our little bundles refuel for the next day.
The Victory Lap. It's a sweet, sweet gift :).
(Just wanted to document our routine so we can look back and laugh...someday.)