Brian just took Asher to the giant kid hamster wheel known as Pump It Up, where he will literally run until he sprawls out onto the floor and asks for his paci.
Meanwhile, Silas is asleep. And I have a quiet hour at home.
This is me, basking in the silence.
My friend and I were remembering the days of having one baby on that blissful two nap schedule. It's confining, to be sure, but you have so much free time at home, too. She was saying she would like to have that again, just for a month, to get caught up on all the things she can no longer do with a four-year-old who never naps. You don't realize when you're in it that it's the most free time you're going to have for the next twenty years. Oh well. Most days I really enjoy our mornings. But the novelty of quiet is nice this morning, too.
In about six hours, I'm leaving to stare at this for a few days:
Part of me feels G-U-I-L-T-Y, because the beach is Asher's idea of perfection - sand! and water! and running! forever! - and Silas is at an age where he could enjoy digging and splashing, too.
Another part of me, though - the part that has been battling general daddy's-not-home malaise and lack of cooperation for weeks and weeks - is PUMPED.
Three days of quiet. The tension is leaving my shoulders already.
But in the fall? Hopefully I can go back with the kids. Because is there anything cuter than this?
(Look at how TINY they were last October).
Happy 4th, everyone. See you on the flip side.
PS - The first time I left Asher alone, I typed out a schedule of our day. YES. I. DID. This time? Only a list of what Silas can't eat, and how much medicine he needs. Man, having a second child was good for me.
Also - when Brian isn't off saving the world one haphazard kid at a time, or chasing his sons around moon walks and blow-up slides, or playing guitar, he's off doing this.