That last hour before dinnertime gets a little sketchy. 3:30-5:00, really. It's a demanding time of day in so many ways - the boys patience with each other and creativity to self maintain wear out at precisely the same time that I need to part ways to fix a meal for three hungry men of varying sizes.
Yesterday, I decided to mix things up a bit for that last hour. Robb is out of town, and we can all use some variety and encouragement. So, I announced the plan: the park, or the library, or McDonald's playland. Any of the three, for the boys who would quickly put on their shoes and jackets.
So I picked up the pace on their behalf, gathering and packing for the hour away from home. Tucker whined at my feet, asking me to please stop and hug him. I did, and then I went on with the plan.
Whine, whine, whine. Hug, hug, hug. Let's go, buddy. Fresh air. On with it. And where's Tyler, anyway?
I found him: in my bed. Under the covers. "Mommy, I just need a little rest. Come sit with me."
Well, well. Perhaps I'm the only one trying to rush these amigos out the door. In every way, they were saying, "Hey. Cruise Ship Director. Maybe you could give us a little free time."
Done, kiddos. This, we can do.
I enticed Tyler downstairs with the promise of rest once he arrived, I scooped Tucker into the chair with both of us, and we watched Toy Story, beginning to end. And nobody moved.
Late dinner. Late baths. Quiet bedtime.
Who knew? (I'll take it.)