The week after the time-change is always crazy. The kids drag tail in the morning - which generally means I start out happy-morning,(Time to start the day, honey!) move to cajoling (Get a move on, okay?) and take a fast turn into full-out roar (Get. In. The. Car. NOW!!!)The highway is full of moms with lead-foots trying to make up that extra ten minutes spent hitting the snooze-button, barking at the kids strapped in their car seats, weaving in and out of lanes.
No amount of coffee is going to take this dragging feeling away - it's something I just have to get used to.
Nighttimes are difficult too - small people are exhausted and fussy from playing outside all day, but very aware that it's still light outside. This makes it VERY HARD TO COMPREHEND that it's bedtime, no matter if the usual ritual of bath, brush teeth, jammies, lotion, three stories, prayers and songs are completed.
Tonight I was so tired I fell asleep watching Postcards From Buster and woke to find my children had decided to mummify me with every blanket, towel and coat they could find. I'm still not sure if they were trying to tuck me in or bury me.
So...Friday night. Mediocre television. I'm in the midst of a semi-bad novel (I think library trip tomorrow!) Sounds like a popcorn and soda let's-check-the-movie-channels night.
As long as I can stay awake, that is!