Monday, September 24, 2012

Monday Momisms: The Best Part of the Day

When you raise kids, the days can be long.
So long.
Like "I've been waiting for it to be bedtime since we woke up" long.
Sometimes it seems like it just won't end. 
Like if you hear Mommy one more time, you're going to snap. 
Like if you have to put another episode of Dora on Netflix for the kids, you're going to strangle her with her smug, self entitled asshole of a back pack.
"I'm the Map!" 
GOOD FOR YOU.  I'm the Mom, I do everything, but you don't hear me singing a whole fucking song about it, DO YOU?!
After a while you start to keep little hidden pieces of the day tucked away. They're special. They're favorite hours in the midst of all the monotony and exhaustion and questions and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHO PEED IN HERE?!

Like mornings.
I hate mornings, in general. The getting up early, the showering when you're still half asleep and accidentally got in before the water was hot, and all the little things that have to be done before you leave the house. But morning with kids are sweet. Jackson is always in a sweet and talkative mood, but still a little bit sleepy and slow moving. So as he's stumbling around the room trying to dress himself, he's also filling me in on his dreams, what he wants to do at daycare today, who his best friends are, how rocket ships work, what he wants for dinner, and what a good boy he's going to be at school. 
Lainie is quiet, and somber in the morning, like me. Quietly shuffling about the house, mumbling good morning and getting dressed. If she had big black sunglasses, she'd wear them and carry around a cup of steaming coffee if she was allowed to have caffeine. But, once we get in the car and start driving to school, I turn the radio on, and sing to her in the rear view mirror. She always smiles, and eventually starts singing along. The next thing you know all three of us are having a 7 a.m. dance party on the way to daycare, and nobody is in a grumpy early morning mood.

And bedtime.
This is a favorite for the obvious reason that the kids go to sleep and I get a break, but also because of everything that comes before that. The showers that produce sparkling clean little angels, the clean jammies that smell like laundry soap, bedtime stories with all three of us in my bed, cuddles and late night whispered conversations. And then that sweet moment where even if I am not in their room, even if I can't see them at all, I know they've fallen asleep because the house feels different. It's quiet in a way that it never is when they're awake, even if they aren't making noise. It's peaceful and calm, and I can tell their little bodies have settled down and their breathing slow and their heart beats steadied, and they're safe and sound in their beds.

Those are the best times of even the worst days.

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