My friends, there is hope.
I remember, not too long ago, when Saturdays were just a good day. A good day because if the delicate balance of the Universe was just right, you had an extra set of hands (not before 9 AM, mind you) to help you get through the day. These hands were attached to a man that you married, and at one time found irresistible (which got you into this mess in the first place), but that's all kind of a foggy memory at this point. And if you're super lucky, a couple of these Saturdays involve a grandparent or two, which makes it easier for you to scrub dried crusty stuff off of the high chair and shave both of your legs in a single shower period.
I get it. I've been there. And still, on occasion, am forced to revisit.
But recently I have come to look forward to Saturdays again. Not look forward like "I'm gonna party, shop, eat at the newest restaurant, and stay up all night giggling with my girlfriends." Let's not be ridiculous. (When I find that place again, I'll let you know.) But, look forward like "I can sleep past 8 if I want to and I don't have to negotiate a deal with the husband to go for a run."
It's awesome. This 9 and 6 year-old stage of life is, dare I say, glorious. They can basically keep themselves alive for a couple hour stretch and don't yet hate the sight of me (or me them).
Take this morning, for instance. I hear something about 7:30 AM and stumble into the kitchen to find this:
My oldest sitting at the breakfast table studying her bible bowl questions sipping a cup of hot tea (be still my heart, except the tea thing. Tea's for pansies.)
And this is the least surprising thing I'll see all day. Bode pretending (and by pretending I mean actually believing) that he is an NBA superstar.
Since the house isn't on fire, I will stumble back into bed where I will stay until I smell something burning or a child can bring me proof of blood.
Will it be quiet enough for me to fall back to sleep? Probably not. Will I have to fix/clean/rearrange several things. Absolutely. But, to me, it's totally worth it.
I'll admit that I was interrupted 6 times while trying to write this post. So things are still a touch crazy.
And I can live with that. In fact, I wouldn't want it any other way.
2 comments:
Yes, it's nice huh? That Mia is unreal. She can sip tea with me. You can do pour-overs with Weston. Maybe you missed that post. But you would've liked it.
oh i needed this blog post this morning. i'm counting the minutes until I can negotiate with my husband so I can take a nap after wrestling 2 wild boys and a fussy baby this morning. there is hope! thanks
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