The other night Jeff went to Kenai to pick up my dad and granddad from the airport. Unfortunately, their plane was delayed and they didn't end up getting into Kenai until 10:45 pm and Anchor Point until 12:20 am.
Generally speaking daddy is an essential ingredient to our bedtime routine. Typically we wind the evening down around 8:45 and end the day with what we call "home church". Home church began as practice runs for Leif to get the hang of sitting still at actual worship. What began as a teaching tool has now become an essential end to the day. We sing a few songs, read some scripture and then have a prayer. It isn't complicated, but it is really special. Leif occasionally gives us a sermon (as seen in the picture) and usually prays.
The night of craziness began during home church. Since dad wasn't around it was just Leif and I along with Nate. Being the multi-tasking mom that I am I was nursing while singing. Leif didn't like having my attention divided and began asking to nurse himself. I am sure there are many moms that have had a similar discussion with their three year old...this was my first. I tried distracting him with a story from his bible...that didn't work. I tried singing his favorite song...that didn't work. I offered chocolate milk...didn't work. He was becoming more insistent as I was becoming more exasperated. Finally, I told him that big boys with teeth get to chew gum and he could have a piece of gum right before bed. He thought that was pretty cool.
After a few minutes of minty chewing I finally got him into bed and went back to our living room to finish nursing. I hear Leif's door open and then the linen closet door open right outside his bedroom. "You get back in that bed!" I boomed back to the rear of the house. I didn't hear any more. Around 11 pm I went through the hallway to my bedroom and heard Leif still up. The little stinker had opened the linen closet door so that I couldn't see light coming from the crack in his door. I rush into his room and found a blood shot, bleary eyed three year old listlessly playing with toys on his bed. "I scited (excited) to see Pop Pop, momma," he said as I put him back to bed, turned off the light and waited another hour until Jeff returned with dad (aka Pop Pop) and granddad.
Well after midnight after everyone is settled in for the night I lay down next to Jeff and who do I hear, but Leif still awake. Jeff gets out of bed and goes to deal with the energizer bunny we have for a son. The next thing I hear is uproarious laughter coming from the next room. I run in and find Jeff bent over laughing as Leif is sitting on the edge of his bed with his palms upturned on his lap. I notice his hands are white and think, "what is going on..." as he lifts his red, blinking eyes upward. He has covered every exposed surface in Boudreaux's Butt Paste zinc oxide. He looks like a NYC street performer at the end of a very long day of miming. His hair is covered in white zinc oxide and poking out in all directions like Calvin ready for his school picture. His face, neck and hands are completely white. He looks at us with utter desperation and a look that says, "this stuff just won't rub in!"
All you can do in a situation such as this is laugh. He said, "Momma I need soap..." "Ya' think so, son?!!!" I wanted to say. Needless to say, we wiped him down and got him in bed around 1:30 am. The next morning he was exhausted but no worse for wear, and he finally got to see his Pop Pop.
