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Then I think, "PHEW!"
And then we do it all again.
Ezra still wakes up way more than I would prefer, starting two hours after I put him to bed (so roughly 9pm) but I do get two blissful hours of quiet. Most nights, Derek isn't here. He's off working, so it's REALLY REALLY quiet.
I love my job. I love each day's challenges and rewards and stupid little mundane things.
And I love clocking out.
I love when they are all asleep, looking perfectly cherubic. I can forgive their indiscretions and forget the petty dumb things I was upset about earlier.
It's quiet.
I like that.
I also like eating foods I have no interest in sharing (as in ice cream) after they are tucked up in the bedrooms fast asleep.
We've had sick kids for a few weeks now. And so my evenings are often filled with a kid (or two) who didn't quiet get the memo that bedtime is SACRED.
Last night Ezra was up coughing like crazy, but happy to enjoy destroying my kitchen otherwise. I was thoroughly enjoying his antics, except, I wished he'd quit coughing and go to bed.
I'm missing my nightly veg.
I have found that I rely on it.
I don't mind when a kidlet has needs to be met. But I'm looking forward to getting my two hours of down time back.
Because I do not like sharing my ice cream.
3 comments:
Morgan, I love this! I so get it. My clock-out time is about 8:30, and that hour, that blessed hour between 8:30 and 9:30 (if I can make it that long) is sacred. As the kids grow older, I find that it is difficult to honor that hour of me-time. Teenagers don't understand it, and often want my attention past 8:30. Sigh...
I hear you Morgan! My problem is that by the time I have my tribe of 5 in bed and settled and get the washing on, do the dishes and organise the required itmes for the following day, that I am having my precious uninterupted time far too late!
Ah well, one day I will have too much time on my hands and wish to turn the clock back...
It makes me feel good that you don't like sharing ice cream. Cause I hate sharing certain foods and I always feared that being a grown up meant not minding to give kids your food.
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