Tired

I promise that this house does fell other emotions. We are not just tired all of the time.

But today... yes, today, I am tired.

It's the kind of night that we were all tired. Poor Brooke has one foot in nap-land and one foot in the land of quiet time. She should really nap, but she seems great if she's pushes through. That is, until about 6:45pm. And then everything falls apart.

And honestly, by then, I'm done too.

Tonight, she was literally sobbing because I asked her to get into bed. And because I'm swinging the solo-mom act tonight, and we were all reading stories together (which, we actually do every night), I asked her to wait in my room until she stopped crying. So the boys could fall asleep.

So, with reluctance, she did. And promptly fell asleep.  Like, within seconds.

And it was then that I had this realization, once all of my sweet cherubs were sleeping: those moments leading up to bedtime are so frantic - we are all so desperate to get sleep, but none of us wants to miss a single thing. We so rely on each other, and we need to be apart of each moment, for fear of missing out on something great, something sweet, something funny.

It's exhausting. (And sometimes grumpy. On all of our accounts. Why is bedtime always portrayed so sweet? What about the nights that everyone is so tired that it all falls apart into grumpiness?)

But the moment everyone is asleep, and I make the rounds to tuck everyone in: straighten blankets, move water cups, brush Brooke's hair out of her face, move Nate's feet out of the covers (he always gets warm), and lay Griff down in his crib.... in that moment, I am awestruck. Those sweet faces take my breath away.

These little people. Oh, they drive me mad sometimes. Like when Brooke takes 20 minutes (no exaggeration!) to put her shoes on. And then decides she needs socks - but only if the sock seam perfectly lines up with her toes. And maybe she should change shoes (another 20 minutes)? Or when Nate asks to play soccer or basketball or baseball or just something! with him, but I'm juggling 14 other things equally pressing. Or when Griffin climbs on to the table, and just hangs out. Seriously, he loves to climb on the table and lay down. Is it so that he's higher up and he won't get trampled by Nate's endless sport games? Or so that I can better seem him? Or so that Brooke doesn't take another toy from him? Is the table his sanctuary? (If it is, okay... but gosh, it makes me nervous! He has a way of scooting on his belly backwards to the edge of the table in hopes of snagging a chair, and climbing down. But what if he misses the chair once? Oh, sweet boy, yes, it makes me nervous!)

Yes, these little people, bring me so much joy. They bring a purpose to me, a reason to do better, to grow more, to think harder about things. These little people inspire me to try to master making a cake from scratch (because when your kids beg you at 6am on Mother's Day to make you cupcakes - because it is Mother's Day, and we should have cake! - you oblige. There's no way you could say no, right?) They encourage me to read a book, and not a screen, and color a picture, and create something. That painting rocks you find is so cool, and the most amazing thing that you could do in a given day.  They goad me into thinking that the cardboard racetrack could totally hold up to the cars racing at a 90 degree vertical (never possible. We've tried 100 times.)

So, on these tired days... these days that I have to remind myself to do the dishes before bed, otherwise I'll be grouchy in the morning that I didn't just get it done at night and be able to start the day fresh. On these tired days, I'm thankful for hot cups of tea to finish the day. And the chance to get up again and do it all over again.