I’ve been a mother long enough to be grateful that they sometimes sleep when they’re supposed to. The baby has a trick of going to sleep at bedtime that amazes me every time he does it. Of course when he doesn’t do it, I have the nerve to feel cheated.
All the work is done for the day and though I could manufacture some or get a jump on tomorrow, I think I’ll just enjoy this. How rare this feeling is! Today I worked at a reasonable pace, without frying myself and even found time for a small sewing project. The kids and I had a pleasant afternoon reading time. We enjoyed hot chocolate with smarshmallows in front of the tree with all the other lights off before bath and bed.
So this was a good day. Not a perfect one. I still had to choke back my temper and apologize for my tone and ask myself why I was getting upset over trivialities. And it’s not lost on me that some of the reason today was so good was because I let my husband do some of the work. He made lunch and tended the kids and was all round nice guy. He’d probably do it everyday if I’d let him but my guilt and control freakishness would not allow that… but that’s another story for another day.