I don't know if I ever gave much thought to routines before having a little one. Certainly, everyone has one to some extent. As a working woman, I got up the same time, drove to work the same time, taught classes the same time every day, etc. After I got married, and before I had Caleb, I didn't work, and I could enjoy doing things as I pleased, when I pleased.
After Caleb, that all changed. After we got past the early months (those precious, wonderful months when he could have slept through a hurricane and a tornado combined), it was clear that routines had to be established and followed. Different things formed at different times. The bedtime ritual was the all-important one in this house. As he began to eat more solids, meal times became more defined. And on it went to include nap time rituals (which was a terrible battle!), and so forth.
It brings me such satisfaction when we put Caleb down at the end of the day, knowing he is safe and warm in his crib, all tucked in after stories and prayers. On the nights when Daddy is home, he is covered with kisses from us both, and I don't think he could ever doubt for one second that he is infinitely loved.
I read an article just the other day that surprised me. I didn't even know they existed, but apparently, 24-hour daycare centers are on the rise. Parents are finding themselves working more irregular hours, and sometimes have to cart their children out at all hours, leaving them to sleep at daycare rather than in their own beds.
Something is just plain wrong about that.
Now, I'm not trying to judge anyone, especially the single parent who has very limited choices. The article referenced a child psychologist, and while I'm not a fan of secular psychology, this person went on to say how unhealthy it is for the child, who thrives on the comfort and predictability of routine. Forgive my elementary school thought here, but, well, "DUH!"
I don't do everything right as a mom. I make mistakes and some days I feel like the worst failure. However, I felt just a little better about myself after reading this article. My boy is not just someone I parent a few hours at the end of the day. He's with me and alongside of me each day. I am watching how he is growing by the minute, and even though I'm with him all the time, I still am shocked by how much he has grown. He's my little companion- where I go, he goes. There's no daycare for him, or some lonely mat to sleep on- far away from me- put to bed by people he wouldn't even know at first.
I will put it right out there that being a stay-at-home mom is not as easy as it looks. In fact, it is the hardest thing I have ever done! But I wouldn't put my boy in daycare for all the money in the world. I'd rather live in a shack with him by my side, than in the fanciest house on the block, only to leave him to be raised by strangers.
At the end of the day, he knows he is loved. And I can go to bed and enjoy my rest, knowing that!
*Note: The above photos were taken last Friday, 11/14, on Caleb's year and a half birthday! Can you believe it? I can't!
