Well this is strange. It's 6:00pm on Valentine's Day, and I'm sitting all alone in a quiet house. The strange thing is not that I happen to be alone on Valentine's Day (with a husband who travels for work, you get used to that); the strange thing is that the house is quiet. It's Saturday evening and all three of my children are in bed. I did not drug them to make this happen...unless you count the sugar from last night's birthday party at a friend's house a drug, which is what led us to this juncture.
A Friday night slumber party--Catcher's first. The girls and I were invited to accompany Catcher for the "dinner and dessert" portion of the party because the birthday boy is a good family friend. After stuffing themselves with pizza, Valentine's candy from their respective school parties and cookies for dessert, the boys (and girls) were wound up. Because we live in Austin and the temperature tends to be in the 70s in February, it was a perfect evening for the kids to run around the yard acting like crazy people. They did that, and around 8:30 the ladies and I checked ourselves out of the party and left the boys to be boys (and hopefully not terrorize my friend and destroy her house in the meantime).
Fast forward to Saturday afternoon and Catcher, who apparently only slept for two or three hours last night due to an iPad left carelessly within his reach, was ready to crash. At 3:00 I convinced him to take a shower and put on his pajamas and "get all snuggly" (my words) in his bed. I haven't heard a sound other than heavy breathing and snores from him since. Scout and Tillie, on the other hand, managed to make it until 5:30 when the clock starting ticking dangerously in the direction of meltdown city. I somehow got them into bed successfully before Tillie turned into exorcist toddler. So here I am; alone in a quiet house. I guess the only thing left to do is pour myself a drink and raid the children's Valentine's candy bags. Cheers to me.
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