Evening/Night time is my favorite. Why? You ask. Well, I’ll tell you.
Mornings are INSANE. You parents with little ones know.
And it’s not from a lack of rising early…you know that early bird that gets the worm? Well, I get a BUCKET full of those squirmy little worms because I’m up before all those other little chirping birdies!
The bottles and cups and lunches that have to be put together.
The DIAPERS that have to be changed…there are only TWO that have to be changed {sometimes 3…}…and the crazies that don’t want them changed!!! {who wants to wear a wet diaper?!? and why is this still such a surprise?!}
The little ones that have to be wrestled to the ground to take a pajama shirt off and put on the clothes for the day – Andrew said recently, “this is like trying to put a sweater on a squirrel!!!” And the endless octopus arms that flail mindlessly about in every attempt to keep from having his teeth brushed!!!!!!!!!!! Makes me crazy.
And forget the bubble-gum tasting pink medicine that helps with that snotty nose of yours. Only Jesus and I know the good it is for this kid. He acts like its castor oil {that is a Mary Poppins reference}.
Sigh.
That was a workout in itself. I’m exhausted having relived it just now. It’s a relief to get into the drivers seat of my car in the morning. Both kids are strapped in by that point…and it’s done. And generally speaking, he’s they’ve forgotten the madness that has just ensued. We’re on our way. We made it out of the house and everyone still has their heads attached, though some of us {mommy and daddy} feel like we’ve been running around without them….
No.
No, mornings are not for Reynolds us. Evening/Night time is.
Reynolds is his father’s son.
I’ve told Andrew that a thousand times.
I am the morning person {and so is Eliza Jane – we don’t just look alike, we act alike} and Andrew is the night-owl {as is Reynolds, his look alike}.
Our evenings are full of laughter and silliness. “Stool, Momma” so he can help me cook. Blessings and “YOU may EAT!!”
Story times and sweet little songs.
Splashing in the tub and playing pretend.
Of snuggles and tickles and just plain love.
Reynolds always wants more. One more book. One more song. “Two more minutes” and then “One more minute, Momma.” When his perception of one minute is more like 30…
Kiss. Hug. High five. Fist bump. Thumbs up.
“Night night Momma. Luh you.”
Until tomorrow…when we wake your sweet self up and do it all over again.
Bless! This made me laugh, sigh, and tear up all in the same post :) You’re a wonderful mommy!
Yes, yes, yes! Goodness, it’s amazing at how much I appreciate car time (the times I’m not being squawked at from the backseat). If I can manage to make myself an ice coffee or something I really feel like it’s my “me” time. ;)
Erin, I can totally relate to the “squawking”!!! Serenity now! :)