I don’t want to believe what Ashlee said, that days are won or lost in the last hours, but it might be true. If so, I really need to improve my win-loss ratio. We had a pretty good day. Seneca had her Christmas party at preschool, which is heaven for her. We had Elsie come play with Beckham during preschool to ease my guilt about getting chores done rather than playing with him. They had fun together, I thought it a good move. Bex and Elsie went with me to pick up Senny then the four of us hit the library. That’s right, the library with a three-year-old and two two-year-olds. I was mentally prepared for the potential outcome. They were excellent. The lady at the counter even told me as I paid my fines that they were being so quiet and obedient in the library. I didn’t tell her they had been threatened with their lives. Just kidding. They played and looked at books and we sang in the car on the way home.
The kids ate lunch outside and had great naps. When Coop got home we picked up more friends and headed to the park for a while. They ran and played to their little heart’s content before we stopped to get dinner, came home to eat, shower and attempt a pick-up. It was somewhere in there that the darn witching hour took over. I don’t even know how to describe what it’s like getting this house picked up, and it wasn’t even that bad. Focusing on the task at hand and not getting distracted is a major issue. My patience grows thin and I am anxious to get them in bed as fast as possible. We brush teeth, read new Christmas books together on Senny’s bed, sing a few songs, tuck in the little ones, move to Coop’s room for reading time, put the little ones back to bed two more times, finally lock a door to get him to stay and try really hard to use my nice voice through the whole process. And it is a process. It really is. I told Denten when we got back from New Mexico that I didn’t remember when I was gone to fully appreciate the fact that I wasn’t home doing bedtime. Eventually they all go to sleep, but I have to wonder if they are laying in their beds remembering the fun day they had or the mean mom who keeps telling them to stay in their beds.
I don’t want to be a mean mom. Because I like my kids, I really do. I had fun with them today, we laughed and played and read and did great things together, but bedtime? It’s killing me. I need to end the day with a win. We’ll work on that.