You know, if I actually wrote a post ahead of time I wouldn’t be struggling for words at 9pm at night….
Or, in the case of tonight, 11:44pm at night.
I would have posted sooner but I left The Bean home with the boys tonight and went out to get my hair dyed. It’s the first haircut I’ve done in over a year, and I was lucky enough to find a hair salon that’s open late.
The theory was that I could relax in peace at the salon while all four kids were sleeping….
But I just got home ten minutes ago to two very awake babies and a very frazzled looking husband, so it appears that the kids were not on board with my awesome plan.
Anyhow, if I don’t manage to get a post out in the next 11 minutes then I will miss a day, so here’s my super super quick story:
Two days ago I woke up waaaay too early to a rustling in the living room. There wasn’t any specific noise in particular that alerted me… just a general awareness that something was moving in a living room that should otherwise be quiet.
I glanced at my clock … 5:50 am. Ugh. With twins that still wake all night long any time in the morning is too early, but if I am up before 6 am I just feel like it should be on my own terms, and not because of early-waking children.
I did my best to creep out of the bed without disturbing the twins and made my way over to the living room couch. There, on the center of one of the seat cushions, was a suspicious looking lump under a blanket. I grabbed the blanket and lifted…. and there was DragonMonkey, grinning up at me.
“Ahhhh, dammit. You weren’t supposed to find me,” he said.
I stared at him. “Whaaat?” I mean, we’re not in the habit of throwing around words like “dammit” on a regular basis….well, the kids aren’t, at least.
“You weren’t supposed to find me yet,” he amended without missing a beat, or even appearing the slightest bit guilty. “Want me to start your coffee?”
And with that he hopped off the couch and headed into the kitchen to start my coffee, like the world’s tiniest roommate.
I stared at his back. I really ought to get after him for using inappropriate words…. but it wasn’t even 6 am and he was offering to make me coffee. Maybe I should just let it slide.
Bwahaha! Hey, at least he has good survival instincts!
About the part where the consequences of of getting time to yourself almost isn’t worth it. My MIL would pick up my boy from school once a week to give me a “chance to do my own thing”. He would always get so wound up, and eat poorly, and generally made the evening rough enough to negate any positive effects of a few hours to myself in the afternoon. We are working on a better schedule for everyone involved.
That was a bit of a ramble, so I’ll end with, Love your posts! Good Job!