I finally got everybody fed, bathed, and ready for bed. I knocked the first layer of dirt on the floor around, only to expose the second layer. I pick up a few toys scattered around my living room, and finally, I, too, go off to bed. My phone chirps. It’s my alarm telling me that if I want my full 5 hours of sleep, I need to go to bed now. I grab the TV remote, so I can watch an episode of “The Office” as I drift off to sleep.
Every night doesn’t go like this. Sometimes that full five hours is an impossibility. Sometimes I sneak in a full six. Sometimes dinner is on the table by 7:00. Most other days i’m Surprised we have dinner st all. Some nights I enjoy Jim and Dwight’s antics, and other nights, I don’t even look for the remote.
I don’t have a night time routine. My skincare regimen is soap and water on most nights, my lullaby is either the whirring of the ceiling fan, or the clicking of the vertical blinds, as wind from the furnace makes them dance.
But every single night, I say a prayer of thanksgiving, for my unruly kids, the messy house, and the ability to appreciate it all.
And just like those vertical blinds, I try to stay in step with what ever the rhythm of that night is. I’m enjoying the dance either way.