Our evenings start out a little harried, getting in the door around 5:15 or so usually. They generally start with me setting the mail down, getting Kiley out of the carseat, and heading straight for the fridge. Meanwhile, Jaxon is whining... 'I need something for me to wait' (something while he waits the hours and hours until his dinner arrives at his table).
Sometimes I can find something to keep him busy, like tracing his letters (genius right?).
What's for dinner? Hurry up and throw something together while carrying Kiley because she just can't be bothered to sit in her exersaucer anymore. Scott comes home and we all play, eat, play some more, take baths, play, and eat a snack before going to bed. (Kiley just tries to eat all the toys).
Usually by then, the house looks a little something like this.
And that's just the countertop.
It's the aftermath.
I'm sure someday, I'll look back on these days and think, 'boy, I wish I had someone to clean up after. Now that my kids are all grown up and moved away, I have way too much free time to do the things I want to do, and I just wish I could take care of them, make them bottles, clean up their messes, and trip over thier toys one more time in the middle of the night.'
Or I won't.
Time will tell.
Does it help to know that every other parent on earth is either dealing with or choosing to ignore the aftermath at the same time as you?
ReplyDeleteYeah, probably not.