The boys are at Meeha and Papa’s house for a couple days. You know what that means – I can get to work early and stay late!! Um, I mean… date night! (Workaholism… I’m working on it.)
“Patience” by Guns ‘N Roses plays in my ear buds right now. My loving hubby sings that to me now and again … because after 15 or so years together he knows me so darn well.
When the boys are home, life is a blur. Hectic. Stressful. Keep up, keep up, keep up. Always late. And when they are gone, I miss them like crazy. I like - and I don’t like - the quiet, the slowed down. I loved my extra half hour of free time this morning that is typically spent reminding wee ones to hurry up and brush your teeth and make your bed and you’ll get a quarter! Then Graham says he doesn’t need a quarter. Such motivation that one has.
Nah, I’d rather be in charge of myself so you can keep your directions and your bribing, he says in fewer words than that – sometimes just with the look in his big eyes. Meanwhile, Reid marches upstairs to the bathroom, doing exactly as told, then straightening his comforter without missing a beat.
I miss my big boy’s stubborn independence, as crazy as it usually makes me. And I miss my little boy’s sweet perfectionism.
My baby turned four earlier this month. And now people seem to be asking more frequently when there will be a third.
I don’t know where we could possibly fit one more thing into our daily schedules. Babies require a lot of time. A lot of…
They’ll be back tomorrow night. And several days or weeks after tomorrow night I’ll come up for air and look around, wondering when the last time Hubs and I had a night alone, or the last time I didn’t bring my work home, the last time I didn’t feel like my mornings and evenings were spent telling everyone to hurry up.