Thursday, March 1, 2012
"I need a milk jug tomorrow for school."
"My ankle hurts."
"I forgot to do my spelling sentences for school."
"There's a party tomorrow and I said you would be there with brownies."
"The cat is trying to come into my room."
It's 8:30 pm. The kids are supposed to be in bed. I'm supposed to get an hour or more of work (and quiet) for myself. In this short amount of time, I get to try to finish my projects (grade school yearbook and other volunteer activities, photo sorting and finishing, coach practice plan for softball), email, camp signups, checks paid, calendar managed, and all those other to-do items, including finishing any work left over from the day, making my lunch and maybe spending two minutes talking to my husband.
But the litany starts. Homework, costumes, pain, hangnails, bloody nose, special stories, noises in the room, "bad news." It all spills out at bedtime. And I start out patient, but then I feel my evening slip away. That glorious 1.5 hours of non-stop efficiency.
It must be the same for them. The day is ending and all those unfinished ideas and projects are flooding back. Someone needs to take care of their problems. And it's us. Which we do. Some nights more graciously than others (depending on how much sleep we got).
I can't wait to find out what it is tomorrow night.
Posted by Karen Ambrose Hickey