The clock on our mantel died last night. It’s not like it’s an expensive clock… less than $25.00 from Target but it’s the main clock in our den so I rely on it quite heavily. The problem? It died at 9:03 and even after Tim pointed out that it was dead I continued to look at it to see what time it was. Yep, for one hour and 52 minutes I thought it was still 9:03pm… When my husband said he was tired and going to bed I found myself looking at the clock, shaking my head and thinking, “Boy is he getting old! First day of break and heading to bed at 9:03pm.” I really kind of felt sorry for him that he couldn’t stay up any later… it was almost embarrassing.
It gets worse… I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open as I tried to watch the Redskins play the 49ers but I kept looking at the clock and thinking I am not going to bed this early!! That is ridiculous. Then my phone buzzed and as I picked it up to read the message I… about… died… Yep, it was 10:55pm and here I sat trying not to be an old fuddy and go to bed before sunset. It was not until that very moment that I realized I’d been looking at the stopped clock for almost two hours NEVER NOTICING THAT THE TIME WASN’T CHANGING!!! Nope, thought Matt’s friend left at 9:03pm, thought halftime started at 9:03pm, thought halftime was over at 9:03pm, thought Tim headed to bed at 9:03pm.
It’s obvious that I am either way too excited about having my boys home for Thanksgiving or way too tired from getting ready for them. Either way my friends, it’s going to be a long day… but a really good week!!
I’m not sure when it happened, but I know it was many years ago. One day instead of dreading bedtime, I found myself longing for bedtime. Counting the hours and minutes until I could crawl blissfully between the covers and shut out the world. I feel certain this happened around the time my children were born but I can’t be certain. There are many things about those days that are, well, fuzzy to be honest.
I remember the days way back when the boys were little and they were only up for an hour or so after dinner. That little bit of time was taken up with our bedtime ritual. It seemed like as soon as the dinner dishes were cleared, the marathon was on: bath time, the great toy clean up, wrestling them into their pj’s, picking out the bedtime book, prayers, then finally lights out. Ahhhhh…I still remember that feeling like it was yesterday. That beautiful feeling of sitting down for the evening knowing that my job was done, at least for the night. Of course there was still plenty to do around the house but what I then did was of my choosing, no longer dictated by the whims and wants of my adorable little boys. Some nights lots got done and others nights…well, books got read and rest happened.
It’s funny that I remember the hustle and bustle of bedtime when my boys have been out of that routine for so very long. Maybe it’s all the Halloween costumes posted online that make me feel nostalgic for the days gone by. Days when my boys were small enough to fit in my lap, little enough to run across the yard and jump into my arms, days when they would fall asleep on my shoulder after insisting they were not tired. It’s enough to make me want to go back to those days and do it all again…Nah! Who am I kidding? I loved them then, but I think I love them even more now… now that they can dress, feed and clothe themselves.
I’ll never be nominated as mother of the year but then again, who needs some silly trophy that requires cleaning when I’ve got three living breathing reminders of where we’ve been and where we are! Yes, this much you can be sure of, I love my boys… my just about fully grown, almost supporting themselves, handsome, intelligent boys.