I was hoping that everyone would get some rest last night, but they were all too jacked up about today to really sleep. I was eyeballing the clock radio a little before 7 when Lex came in, fully dressed! and asked if he could watch the end of Sister Act. (Yeah. You may want to screen that one first. Oops.)
"Only if you wait for your brother," I mumbled. They had started it the night before and I didn’t want to start the day with an argument. Ah. If only I could have foreseen the rest of the day, I’d have quit trying from the get go.
When I did drag myself out of bed and into the living room a few minutes later, I found the boys on the couch under a quilt. I sat between them and put my arms around them till they made me stop. We watched the last fifteen or so minutes of the movie. Every time Harvey Keitel walked on camera I cringed. I guess I’m used to seeing him in some decidedly not kid-friendly motion pictures.
Sophie went off to kindergarten reluctantly but came home happy. Well, for a time, anyhow. My children have a tough time (ha! understatement times infinity) with transitions. This afternoon, and especially tonight, were scorchingly horrid. I cried. They cried. It was gory. I’m hoping that we’ll get the hang of this new schedule quickly. I hate it when the day ends and I feel like the worst mother who ever lived.