I’m not going to lie. This evening time VBS business is straight-up going to kill me dead.
Oh, it’s not the kids that are doing me in, or even the fact that I’m running the games session for a number of children that is equal to the population of Miami. What is doing me in is simply this: When a girl reaches a certain age (let’s say that age is in her forties), AND she has a rambunctious six year old, she tends to go to bed exactly twenty-one minutes after that small fry does.
In other words, when I put Thing 2 in bed at 8:00, I am usually upright and mobile until approximately 8:21, at which time MAMAW IS IN BED. Now, Mamaw doesn’t necessarily go to sleep at 8:21, because she still likes to pretend that she is young and spry and also twenty years old again, which was a beloved time in her life, when she didn’t have chin hairs and when her metabolism was FAST. Sometimes Mamaw reads in bed, and sometimes she watches a hip and trendy sitcom with Papaw, through the glory of the internet, but she does those things from the luxury of her bed.
But sometimes? Well… sometimes… if it has been a busy day, which means IF SHE KEPT UP WITH THING 2 TO THE EQUIVALENT OF HAVING PARTICIPATED IN AN IRONMAN TRIATHLON, then yes… Mamaw will go to sleep right at 8:21.
Don’t judge her. Ironman competitions are hard in your forties.
And this week? Well, we get home from VBS at approximately 8:45 each evening. And when we get home? That is when Thing 2 announces that his 4:30 dinner (in anticipation of being to the church shortly after 5:00) has worn off, and please make me a second dinner, Mother, from scratch, because I will require ALL THE FOOD right now. So, Dinner #2 it is.
“Here, child. Let me roast you a rack of lamb real quick-like at 9:00 in the evening, and let me make some mint jelly… and would you like twice-baked potatoes with that, or some bread pudding? Because I can whip up a nice bread pudding, too, because I can see that you’re hungry enough to eat an entire buffalo.”
Or maybe it’s just… “You can have a yogurt and microwaved chicken nuggets, and… Oh! Look! We have nectarines in the fruit bowl!”
Either way, Dinner #2 commences, and then Hubs and I listen to Thing 2 jabber on at a speed equal to a drag racer’s burnout, as he recaps the night of FUN, SO MUCH FUN, ALL THE FUN! And then we brush teeth and we say our prayers and we read the books, and OH, LOOK! It’s now the middle of the night, and we haven’t gotten to sleep yet, and now Mamaw’s got a second wind that she didn’t ask for, and who even IS this elderly woman, sitting on her deck at 10:30 PM with her husband, talking about Michael Jackson songs, of all the things?
The answer is: I have no idea.
But that… in a nutshell… is why I haven’t fallen asleep before midnight all week. And then, you can compound the problem by knowing that Thing 2 was out of bed about 12:15 this morning, which means I had enjoyed approximately fifteen minutes of a glorious REM sleep, before I was ripped out of it by a little hand tapping me on the shoulder in bed, as a little voice said, “I’m scared of the dark.”
And then? Well… a cat decided to TAKE A BATH IN MY BED at 4:50 this morning. I don’t know if any of y’all are cat people, but when a cat decides that she’s in desperate need of a good cleaning, there can be some slurping and strong noise involved, especially if she decides to chew on her claws for a bit, in an effort to pick the houseplant she ate earlier out of her teeth.
Lord, bless all the cats that I have decided I no longer like.
And yes. After falling asleep at midnight and being awake for a while with my small boy, I got up for the day at 4:50 AM. I had coffee at 6:30 this morning with Hubs, on our deck (because it’s amazing how a couple of cheap sun shades can transform a once unusable deck into a glorious spot you enjoy sitting on), and I said, “Go ahead and feast your eyes on me… and the dark circles under my eyes… and try to imagine the brain fog that I’m fighting through today!”
In other words… SHOULD I EVEN BE DRIVING A MOTOR VEHICLE TODAY? I don’t know.
But, what I do know is that Thing 2 was bone-weary tired a couple of weeks ago, when I sent him to day camp from 8:00 to 4:00 each day. Talk about nonstop moving! Thing 2 participated in rock climbing and hiking; he did crafts and games; he shot BB guns and bows and arrows. He waded in the creek, hopped over fallen logs and ate the apple in his lunchbox every single day… and nothing else. Never you mind the peanut butter sandwich made with love. It came home squashed and leaking strawberry jelly all over the plastic bag. By Friday, I finally got a grip that being physically exhausted at day camp was not going to increase his hunger any more than being mentally exhausted by kindergarten reading and math had done. So… on Friday… I packed Thing 2 an apple in his lunchbox… and nothing else. By all standards, this probably stripped me of my Mother of the Year sash and sapphire crown, but at least I saved some bread from being wasted!
By Friday, Thing 2 was a hot mess of THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN, BUT I AM AT AN EXHAUSTED POINT WHERE I CAN NO LONGER HANDLE MYSELF IN POLITE SOCIETY. So, Mama took things into her own hands and bought him a giant Lego set, which he could quietly and calmly build on Friday evening. And lo! The boy was home from a golf tournament on Friday evening, and he was a bit worn out by all the sunshine and all the walking, so he sat down to build some Legos with his bro, too.
We called it CHILL NIGHT WITH PLASTIC BRICKS. Yes, the Legos cost me $28, but the peace we had in our home… and the fact that no one was actually BAWLING from utter exhaustion after a week of day camp and eighteen holes of intense golf in the sun… was priceless.
Y’all have a good weekend!