I was planning on writing about being annoyed over a plethora of things lately.
My laziness and lack of motivation to run; my laziness and lack of motivation to diet; my laziness and lack of motivation to really spring-clean the Trenches... Oh, and the crappy weather. And the fact that I haven't read a good book in AGES.
But then I had a night like last night. Where all the stars aligned and lo and behold...
IT WAS A GOOD, GOOD NIGHT.
Hubby went down in the basement to work out. I was able to empty backpacks and go through schoolwork. Eldest had gotten his 3rd quarter report card which was excellent (all O's and 4's - for whatever that's worth). I was able to pull him aside and look into his eyes and tell him how proud I was.
Harmony continued. We decorated folders for Middle and Baby to put their artwork in.
The TV went on. There was no arguing over what to watch. iCarly suited all 3 of them while I prepared dinner. (I'd love to tell you it was a homemade nutritious dinner filled with nutrients, but I'd be lying. It was frozen chicken tenders, french fries and raw (organic!) green beans. Hey, 1 out of 3 ain't bad.)
I let the boyz eat in the sunroom at their little table.
No mess was made (much) and nobody spilled (much).
They all ate their dinner, drank their milk and cleared their plates.
Pajamas were donned without any fuss.
I was able to clean up the kitchen without interruption. My domestic duties were done.
I snuggled with Baby and read Hop on Pop. I've been meaning to do that for AGES. Both Eldest and Middle were early readers. Baby? Notsomuch. And for that, I feel guilty. I just haven't been able to spend the time with him.
Then it was Middle's turn to read. He read. And he read. And he read. At 5-1/2, he's reading the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books aloud to me with minimal help.
Hubby and Eldest were settling in for the first Bruins hockey playoff game.
There was no fighting. No whining. No complaining. No backtalk.
It was, dare I say, MIRACULOUS.
I guess I never realized how much that crap wears me down. Having to reprimand. Having to scold. Having to referee. CONSTANTLY. (At least it seems like it.)
For even this morning, the spell had already been broken. Baby didn't want breakfast. Eldest insisted on wearing shorts even though it's only supposed to be in the 40's. There was fighting over the TV.
Please forgive me. I feel compelled to document it.