The boys slept on the floor of our room last night, so they bound out of bed in the morning, while I do not. Our kindergartener climbs in bed next to me with a box of index cards. He wants to practice addition and subtraction.
I am trying to blog every day this week, giving an exclusive look into our fascinating lives through Week In My Life, hosted by Kathryn at Team Whitaker. I’m not sure I’ll pull it off, but we’re off and running!
The next thing I know, he has opened his bank and is counting his money.
“Money leads to the path of darkness,” he tells me, and all I can think about is how great sleep is, and how much greater more sleep would be.
But the day has begun. So we head to the kitchen for breakfast, which today is the ever-popular chicken soup with rice. I heat the soup while I boil water for our instant coffee, but I can’t find the teakettle. I look in the dishwasher, the sink, the drying rack, everywhere. Eventually I spot it, sitting right where it should be.
This is not a good sign of what the day will bring. I pack lunches as usual, but today I have two critics keeping a sharp eye on me.
“You didn’t send dessert in my lunch yesterday so I need double today,” one of my customers says and dives into his Halloween candy bucket.
For some reason, while the boys are playing soldiers they are debating whether you are allowed to attack a hospital for soldiers during war. I answer question after question, touching on the role of the United Nations, hoping I am right, and rooting for John to come through the room sooner rather than later. He does, and he answers the questions with actual knowledge, and everyone seems satisfied.
I am out of the shower in time to take our boys to school, so they climb into the van, as I notice yet again that my key needs a new battery if I want it to open the doors the first or fifth or ninth time I click it. I just can’t figure out when I can go get a new battery or how much time is involved.
Somehow we make it to school before the first bell, and I’m congratulating myself on how smoothly the morning is going as the boys start to climb out of the car. Then someone takes an elbow to the eye, so the other one gets kicked. Naturally, there’s no time for apologies (forced or real) or anything except to make sure the eye is intact because we are at Drop Off and You Never Ever Keep People Waiting at Drop Off. So the boys head into school and I drive away.
I stop at the grocery store to get something to eat for lunch later and as the cashier is checking me out, I notice she has a beautiful tattoo of “Love is patient” on her arm. I have no tattoos—my ears aren’t even pierced—but I think it’s a great choice, if you are going to get one. I compliment her on how lovely it is and she lights up with a big smile.
Then I’m off to work where I write and meet and talk and listen and research and write more and laugh a few times with colleagues. We add a victory to our Small Victory Glass, which we use to celebrate our successes as a team.
It’s a good day and a busy one, so it flies by. I accomplish some of what I meant to, some of what I didn’t know I’d have to, and, as one of my newspaper reporter colleagues used to say, leave some for the night shift. When I arrive at our afterschool program, Leo is playing chess against the teacher. She takes out her phone to get a photo of the chessboard so they can start from the same place tomorrow.
Then we’re on our way home! John is working late tonight, so it’s just the three of us. Usually on a night like that I bake a piece of salmon, which John doesn’t like but the rest of the family does. But they have had salmon and tuna a few times already this week, so I figure we’d better skip it. And I’m so tired from the day and I just want to spend time with our boys.
So we go through a drive-thru, which is awful nutritionally but fun. We go home and they eat it and I cook something quick for me. The evening feels short and suddenly I realize we never did homework. Leo always does his on his own after school, but Daniel hasn’t found that rhythm yet. So I have him stand at the table—so much better than sitting down—and he does his math.
After a frantic search through the house for the stuffed Cat in the Hat, who manages to find the most unlikely hiding places (tonight he’s in the dry sink) we read books and pray. Our boys are sniffling and coughing and fall asleep almost immediately, nestled again in blankets on our bedroom floor. I look at them and wonder why we thought we needed three bedrooms when we all fit in one room.
And I wonder how much longer I can stay awake before falling asleep myself. But I write this blog first because I have promises to keep. And because after a long day of lots of writing, this feels easy and fun and like a treat to myself and my family…and hopefully to you!