Oh, there is a twinkle in the dark! I can see it! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of summer vacation!
It is a beautiful twinkle promising rebirth and hope. I'm going to pack up some myrhh and head on down to the school to deliver it and three of my children next Monday. Blessed be. Hallelujah.
I remember a time when my children were infants. They were cute infants. They did cute things which I encouraged. Like making cute noises which I naively parroted back to them. I goo-goo-ed and ga-ga-ed. When would they begin to talk? I laid them on their tummies and scooted their tushies. When would they walk? I marveled on how widdle and pweshush those teeny newborn diapers were. When would they start to do more than lie there and poop?
Sooner than you think. Way sooner. Then the day arrives when the cute has all worn off and all you wish for between the months of June and September is fifteen minutes of quiet. This walking and talking has gotten way old...though I'll keep them potty trained, thank you very much.
For the love of God why doesn't The Cartoon Network experience some technical difficulties for at least ONE episode of Adventure Time in the coming week? Please? For my sanity?
Wouldn't matter anyway. That stuff is echoing in my brain even after I've turned the TV off.
Then I can shower on my schedule instead of in between the whims of my teenager.
Fifteen minutes of quiet, a hot shower and my kids behind desks. It'll be heaven.
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