I wait for it all day long, especially on days when Andy is traveling and I'm alone with the munchkins from the crack of dawn (which, by the way, is 4:30am here in Seattle. I bribe them with chocolate milk so they'll go back to sleep until at least 6:30 or 7:00), until they go to bed around 9pm. (And then I stay up until 2 or 3am working on my paper or watching the Bachelorette because I hate going to bed alone in this weird place). Mothers and children were not meant to be entirely alone together for 14 hour days.
Tonight they were little chatterboxes. They are sharing a fold-out bed while we're here. I lay down in the middle because Autumn rolls over and kicks Calvin with super fast, super hard little kicks in his shins and ribs. He screams and she laughs like it's the best game in the world.
So, back to tonight.
They could not stop talking. Finally after we had been in bed for an hour and I had tried yelling at them and spanking them and pleading with them, we went outside (still light at 10pm. I miss my shorter days further away from the pole). They looked around, talked, got some wiggles out, and then we went back to bed.
And then my favorite thing of the day happened.
Autumn kept talking to herself like a schizophrenic bag lady. Talking about Princess Peach and the library and zombies and other stuff I couldn't make out.
Finally, Calvin sits up and says: Autumn, please stop talking! I'm tired and I want to go to sleep!
It was silent for 10 seconds and then Autumn, in her squeaky little two year old voice, whispers: You're crazy!
Calvin and I cracked up. Maybe it's funnier if you're sleep deprived.
Then about 15 minutes later, Andy walked through the door. I invited him to take my place and get the kids to sleep since he hadn't seen them for a few days. When they were asleep, he came out and said that Calvin had said, "I'm so glad it's you sleeping beside me, dad, and not the mailman."
Andy wanted to know what I've been doing while he was gone.
As luck would have it, I did look out the window today when the mail was being delivered. It was a 60ish year-old woman. I'm pretty sure I'm not that lonely yet.
The girl reaching up my shirt.
The boy snuggling up to the pile of laundry I've folded and am trying to get put away.