Wednesday, August 24, 2016

A Day in the Life

If its her, I hear the tell-tale creaks coming from her room and then the tip-toe walk (who knew that could be inherited) skittering towards our room. Her index finger jabs my cheek one, two, three times before I haul her in the bed and I can see her smiling in the dark as I half-heartedly tell her she needs to sleep in her own bed. At  age four, she sleeps somewhat like a real human and I rarely feel her after she falls back asleep.

If its him, I am jolted awake by my name being shouted from his room. Not a cry, mind you, but a demand. When she was his age I let her cry it out. Now I am entirely too tired for that. I drag him into bed with us with his two huge stuffed animals (“Ha-ha-lellujah" the turtle, and “Wog” the frog) at which point he buries himself so close to my body he once again become an extension of me. I love the smell of him so much I really don’t mind.

If its both, the adults will sleep in fits and bursts while they arrange themselves in various tangles and shouts of discomfort until it is light outside. Sometimes they look so alike and are so perfect in the moonlight I (almost) wouldn’t have it any other way.

If its neither, I war with myself for hours whether get up and check their breathing. The neurotic me almost always wins.

Morning is a race- get dressed, eat your breakfast, don’t hit your sister, he didn’t hit you that hard, the dog will not drink your milk, honey let’s go, let’s go, LET’S GO, Mama wouldn’t have to yell if you came the first time, where are your shoes (bow, bag etc. etc.)

Coming and going is my favorite- they sing funny songs to each other and tell me their secrets and fears (Him-"Me cared monsers” and Her- "Mama, what happens if you learn to drive and you don’t know where you are going”?)

Each day I walk them into school and see their faces light up and their teachers' (his the same that taught her at that age) faces light up. There is nothing more beautiful than finding people who love and teach your children this much while you are away.

For six hours I work and think about them, I anticipate their faces and their little bodies until they are all mine again.

She is older and more quiet about her hugs these days. She recently asked me if I could come later so she could play longer. I miss the squeals of joy when I walk through the door but I still catch the light in her eyes when she sees me. 

He is all smiles and happy dances when he sees us. After an extensive goodbye to all of his friends we are finally on our way.

There are fights over toys in the car, always.

Home for snacks (he wants whatever she wants) and all of the toys come out of the toy boxes. Legos, blocks, and much to his daddy’s horror- “Babbbies” (Barbies) are favorites. Fights, yes, but also surprising sibling sweetness.

Daddy comes home to make dinner while I give baths. Bath time can be lots of fun but also often resembles the movie Gremlins. Daddy swings them around in their towels after bath. Someone inevitably cries. 

She takes approximately 2 hours to put on her pajamas. Honey put on your pajamas, put on your pajamas, PUT ON YOUR PAJAMAS, Mama wouldn’t have to yell if you would PUT ON YOUR PAJAMAS!!!

We eat as a family. She eat two bites, he eats two plates.

I put him to bed. We pray, we rock, he snuggles with his turtle and his wog and gets in his crib. I wonder how I got so lucky.

I put her to bed. We pray, we (still) rock, I tell a story, she gets in bed and I wonder how I got so lucky.

Then again sometimes they don’t go to bed and I wonder if I will ever get so lucky.

Their daddy and I got to bed.

If its her, I hear the tell-tale creaks...