As I pull into the driveway after a full day of work, I am already thinking ahead to all the things that need to be done once I walk through the back door. I shift the Tahoe in park, and take a deep breath as I turn the key and grab my purse. I love my children and my home, but sometimes I wish for a little more time alone and a little less to do.
I open the door and call out for Nathan and Grace, and they come running from the back of the house to say hello as I drop my purse and keys on the stool by the back door. After the usual rounds of hugs and kisses, they go back to what they were doing and I begin the evening checklist of things to do. First I go through their backpacks for notes, homework and grades and sign all pertinent papers for the next day. I make sure that all the junk is removed and that their jackets are hung up on the coat rack.
Once the backpacks are emptied, I begin the daily torture of trying to figure out what to make for dinner. Sometimes this just turns into an internet order to Dominos or a box of macaroni and cheese, but on the nights that I do cook this is when I get it started. After dinner is cooking, I pick up the living room and/or put on a load of laundry. All of this activity is of course punctuated with questions from, conflict resolution for and repeating myself 326 times to the kids. By the time Trevor gets home at six, I am exhausted.
We eat dinner together and then we all sort of do our own thing for a little while. But all too soon, arguments ensue regarding who took their bath first last night, and who has to do it first tonight. Once the logistics are finally worked out, baths are taken and the kids are ready for bed it's time for Trevor and I to wind down. We receive our goodnight hugs and sugar from Nathan and Grace, and then we have a few hours to just be together, talk and hang out. Usually we watch television together, but we frequently pause it as we think of things to discuss.
It's my favorite part of the day. So today I am giving thanks for evenings alone with my husband.