Tired

A tired Monday morning hello. For some reason last night I was wide awake from 1:30 until 3:30, and then Sawyer woke up wailing at 4:00 (teething trauma) so I took care of him, got back to bed and was called into service by Liam who had wet the bed at 4:30. Ken had to be up at 4:40 to get ready to catch an early flight so I never did get back to sleep. We crossed paths at 4:45 as I was coming up from doing a load of pee laundry and he was headed downstairs to grab some clothes. (Ken is a "pack your bags the morning of the trip" kind of guy). There is only so much a cup of coffee can do...

Ken is in San Francisco for two days so it will be just the lads and I. I always have these grand ideas for what special Mommy & Boy things we can do when I get home and Ken is out of town "Let's bake cookies! Let's make a pinecone turkey! Let's play a game! Let's order a pizza and watch Nightmare before Christmas!" but in reality it is "Let's do laundry! Let's get you fed. Let's give you a bath. Let's go to bed soon so Mommy can fall into a deep, deep sleep." I often imagine what it might be like to stay home and actually be able to accomplish ALL of the things I intend to do everyday without having to cram it all into 2 hours at night. I just hope and pray (and worry) that the time I do get to spend with the boys at night is enough to matter to them. When I get home and I am tired and frazzled and I open up the door and Sawyer comes running to me and crying at my feet to be picked up and Liam runs to me and starts talking loudly about his day (to drown out Sawyer's pleas to be held) I remind myself that the hours with my boys are precious few. No matter how tired I am, or how much needs to be done I need to just stop and live in the moment--however crazy that moment is.