He loves me

Today was challenging. Especially the late afternoon, when I noticed that Anna-Lucia hadn't slept a wink all day (a first for her) and Joseph was getting very tired.

Nat and his little friend were playing so nicely, each sitting on an end of the glide swing and chatting.

I left the big boys to their playing and chatting and decided to bath the little kids. Anna-Lucia was her usual strong-willed self (did you know that if you lift her into the bath, she will protest strongly and climb out, just so that she can climb back in again by herself?) and screamed "Let go-a-me!" repeatedly as I washed her hair. I did however get her and Joseph clean, but half-way through the bathing process, I noticed it was quiet.

Too quiet.

How quickly can you bath and dress two small children? I knew something was wrong, and indeed, it was MUD. I won't go into it. But it was (and still is, out there) BAD.

After the playdate (thick brown water settling in the bath as I type) I discovered that my three children had all uncovered the secret of perpetual motion. When usually on a Wednesday, they would be falling asleep dirty and unfed before their dinner and bathtimes, today they kept going and going and going ... and going. And going.

I don't know how they kept finding their second wind and their third wind and their fourth wind. But as I felt my own energy flagging to dangerously low levels, all three of them showed no sign of slowing down.

In an attempt to attend to the crying Joseph as quickly as possible, I tried to slam down a banana muffin. I gave myself a case of hiccups so violent that once I'd got Joseph happily drinking milk, he was unable to drink or settle to sleep at all.

Suck suck suck ... eyes shut ... suck suck ... HIC! Frightened eyes open. Darn.

Again and again and again.

And then I got a text:

"Sailing into the sunset on 'Solway Lass'. Turning phone off now. I love you!"

Well. He loves me. That's all that matters.

The Solway Lass