I love how my routine goes when I close up the house at night. My kids are in bed and suddenly the remnants left around the house all become precious little mementos of a day I'll never see again. I fight back the tears as I pick up the sweet packet of oatmeal my 3 year old got out but I never cooked for him. I put away the Spiderman mask that one of the twins was so excited to tell me about but I got agitated cause he kept interrupting me. I find the Batman plane the other twin has desperately been searching for. I lovingly pick up the empty bowl my 18 month threw on the floor. I get so upset when he does that, but suddenly I realize it's a token of a missed moment because I didn't fully take it all in today. Suddenly I don't know if I really looked at my kids at all today. What do they look like? What if they look different tomorrow? *Sigh*. . .Picking up the house is sure an emotional roller coaster when you have empathy for each object you find.
Once those four fall asleep I'll take a moment to kiss them all good night and enjoy this moment of peace before I forget it all tomorrow and once again become a screaming lunatic. OK, perhaps not screaming, but at the very least a very firmly speaking lunatic.
Pics are from Sunday when I taught the boys how to make eggs for the first time.
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