Sometimes when I tuck myself in for the night, I let out a long slow sigh and wonder how it all happened. How did we manage to complete the homework, run kid C to dance, craft a dinner, and squeeze in family time? Surely time must stop, pause for an hour or two. That is the only logical explanation. In households around the world, a giant pause button of life must be pressed so family time can exist.
Some nights M’s nightly baggie book is completed along playful splashes of R and E’s bath time fun. Other times, the dance time means tugging along an extra kid or two for dinner, more homework, and/or alphabet flash card review. Bedtime is another 3 ring event. Read book to R while he contemplates life’s next adventure from his little throne. Braid E’s hair as she brushes her pearly whites. Review M’s spelling words in between pages of R’s books and shouts of braid pulling pain.
It all gets done. Well most of the time. How, how does this happen?
Wherever this hidden hour comes from I want to live there.