|From Drop Box|
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.
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.