Category: Sophia

Today was one of those draining days. It wasn’t particularly bad, and it had it’s sweet moments, but it left me, in a word, depleted. My husband had to work late and didn’t get home until 7:45. The kids badly needed a bath, and he usually takes the lead on that, but tonight, since he was going to be late I just did it, because they were starting to look pretty funky. As I dried Joshua off and watched the last of the bath water twirl and swirl down the drain like an aquatic ballerina, I saw the last of my energy go with it. I could feel it seeping out of my body, trying to pull my body with it. At that moment, I was so tired, curling up fully-clothed in the fetal position in the damp tub actually sounded real, real good.

Somehow I summoned the energy to get my two clean, yummy-smelling kiddos PJed and back downstairs, where I gave them each a cookie and plopped wearily on the couch. I wanted to become one with that couch. As I loafed in my exhausted state I urged my tired mind to come up with a reason, a rationale for why I felt so whooped. Although I’m not a math nerd like some people I know (*cough*Charles*cough), some numbers begin popping into my head. First, I thought of 4: the number of times I’ve swept the same living room floor where the kids have dropped food crumbs. Then other numbers just starting bouncing off my brain, breaking my day down into the minutiae whose sum = exhaustion.

7:30 the time I got up to get the kids ready for homeschool co-op
8:15 the time I decided the kids were too sick to go to co-op
37 (ish) the number of times I’ve wiped the kids noses today
3 the number of times I’ve watched various episodes of Word World
13 the number of goodie bags I made for some foreign college students in our area
5 the number of times Sophie pulled my hair out of my ponytail
6 the number of deep breaths I took to keep from yelling
2 the number of fish sticks Joshua ate for dinner
2 the number of fish sticks Joshua didn’t eat for dinner
3 the number of meals Sophie really did not eat at all
3 the number of diapers changed today
7 the number of times Sophie wiped her snotty nose on my shirt
2 the number of loads of laundry I did today
1 the number of wads of gum I removed from Joshua’s shoe
4 the number of Lysol wipes it took to get Sophie’s dinner tray clean

You get the picture. That’s the little stuff, done over and over and over again. It wears me the heck out and sometimes makes me feel resentful, like my time has been stolen from me. But if I’ll allow myself to focus on the big picture:

(even if one half of the big picture is picking her nose in a very unlady-like manner), I know it’s not today’s 2 loads of laundry or the 2 uneaten fish sticks that matter. What matters most at the end of the day is that I have 2 little people who know that they are loved, safe, and protected by their mama. And that, for better or worse, is the number I’m placing my bets on.