Last night, the kids didn’t want to go to sleep. I don’t know why. Boo has been fairly reliable about starting her overnight between 7 and 9 and Poppy is typically down around 8. Last night, Boo finally conked out in my arms around 10:10 and I’m not sure why time Poppy finally stopped chattering in the bedroom but it was maybe ten minutes before that.
Like many parents, we use that time when they’re both asleep (or, at least, alone in the dark bedroom putting on elaborate theatre productions with Matchbox cars) to tidy up the house, relax for a few minutes, and maybe actually talk to each other without a small child screaming “FOOFIE, DADDY! FOOFIE! I WANT TO TALK!” (foofie = excuse me).
But not last night.
At a couple of points throughout the evening, I found myself getting mad and conjuring up the spirit of Samuel L. Jackson.
Why won’t you go to sleep? GO TO SLEEP! I want to practice piano. I want to do the dishes. I want to start a crochet project. I want to sit, alone, and stare at the wall and take a deep breath and not be needed for just ten minutes. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?
But then… then I stopped and looked at this ridiculous face and thought, “What’s wrong with you, Jo? LOOK AT THIS CHILD.” She is happy and she wants to hang out with you and smile and laugh and talk and… who cares if the dishes aren’t done? And who cares if you never learn to play piano or crochet a blanket? SAVOR THIS MOMENT.
So I did.
Then Ms. Poppy woke up at 6:04 this morning, demanding breakfast.
“Honey, it’s not time to wake up yet. *grumble* Go back to *grumble* sleep.”
“BUT IT’S DAYTIME MOMMY DADDY!”
So here we are. Late night, early morning, and oh so grateful that the big one has preschool for a couple of hours this morning.
Please pass the coffee.
Want to join me for the Early Bird Special on Monday mornings?
Write up your own quick-thoughts Early Bird Special post on Monday morning and leave a link in the comments here. I’d love to see what’s on folks’ minds in the first hours of the work week!