I’m not even sure what to write about today. It was good but it was hard. And frustrating. Mostly good, I guess. The babies played really well with the neighbor kids all day. At one point I thought I’d be the fun mom and let the kids play with stamps while I tried to get dinner going. Not two minutes into it James smears the stamp pad all the way from his forehead up and down to the back of his neck. It’s like he was just curious what it would feel like? Then during dinner I was trying to have a conversation with John about a frustrating situation I’m stuck in but Charlie was screaming for dad attention and snuggle time and James wasn’t helping by running around acting like a (very loud) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. We found some peace for a moment by having the babies color on the chalkboard outside but then James emerged like the photo above^^, covered in chalk. He had a fun day, to say the least, my little mutant skunk. It was all a little overwhelming for me in each moment, though.
There comes a certain time of the day that I basically clock out. I can make it to about 30 minutes after Charlie goes to bed, then I’m done. John is usually back at school til around 11:00 pm after his dinner break with us, which means James usually hangs out with me in my “big bed” since dad isn’t there and Charlie’s asleep. We try to have at least 15 minutes of what we call “friend time” in bed, where we chat and giggle and talk about our days and read together. And then I unapologetically need what we call “mom time,” where I zone out with Netflix. Sometimes I’ll let James watch a show on the tablet with headphones next to me and we’ll hold hands, me watching my show and he watching his, each in our own little worlds. I consider this a mom win. He always falls asleep before me and now I’m getting dependent on his snoring to fall asleep myself. Then Dad gets home and gently carries James into his own little teepee bed for the rest of the night. It’s our little routine, it works for us. And on frustratingly long evenings like tonight I need that decompressing time, just for me and welcomed visitors. Like James’ little hand holding mine.