Well, like all good Americans, we watched the Super Bowl last night. We headed to my folks' house for some really good Super Bowl food fare (yummy dips, chili, brownies, the works) and dutifully watched - with more or less interest depending on which family member you were - the game and the commercials and the half-time show.
I found it a relatively entertaining game, and was enjoying watching as much as anyone. But my youngest child wasn't going to make it. She didn't "get it." ("When is the ball going to drop?" she had asked, and she wasn't talking about the football. It all seemed an awful lot like New Year's Eve to her seven-year-old mind.) She needed to go home and go to bed.
And so I took her and her disinterested big sister home. (In the grand scheme of things, I was still less engrossed than my husband, and so the duty fell to me.) I got her ready for bed. I read her a story. I piddled around unpacking a bit from our trip. And so I missed one of the most exciting fourth quarters in all of Super Bowl history! (Yep, we left just before the touchdown that started the fourth quarter, and missed every exciting thing thereafter!) Such is motherhood...
A little like trying to find an oportunity, and a place, to have sex with my husband today. He had taken off from work, in case we decided to take an extra day at his folks' house, and so we slept in and found ourselves home together during the day. Never do we get to approach each other with the energy of the daytime, and so we decided we must take advantage of the opportunity! Our first effort - in the shower together in our bathroom - was interrupted twice. ("Mom, we don't have any ham. Do you want me to just make the macaroni and cheese according to the recipe and skip the ham?" And a few minutes later, "Mom, we don't have any bay leaves." So much for the idea that a lunch-making project would keep her busy...)
The relocated effort - in our bedroom closet - was also interrupted twice. ("Mom, where's Dad? I want to tell him my weird dream." And a few minutes later, "Mom, what should I do with the blanket you said was too big for my bed?")
The joys of homeschooling... the joys of parenthood... the joys of married sex... I wouldn't trade any of it! Even when it means I have to be really quiet on the closet floor. (Maybe even especially when it means I have to be really quiet on the closet floor... ;)
"This is the stuff life is made of." Indeed.
No comments:
Post a Comment