The sweater is lovely – I particularly like the bunnies! With Easter around the corner (maybe a long corner, but a corner none-the-less) and Little Mister’s birthday on the horizon, spring is coming! And what is more springy than bunnies? Not much! Maybe crocus flowers? Or sunshine…or flip flops…or temperatures above freezing?
But I digress. I love the sweater.
We had an ice storm yesterday. The back door iced shut. That’s all I’ll say about that.
We have a new dish drying rack.
It looks a lot like a dishwasher. That’s all I’ll say about that.
It’s almost nine o’clock, which is referred to in our house as “nine-zero-zero.” I was thinking that I should call it “the witching hour” but that feels too evil when you look at the definition of that phrase. So maybe it should be referred to as “the magic hour” or “the hour the crazies come out” or “the I should go to bed hour” or “the unfunctional hour” (which isn’t a word, I think.)
Before Munchkin’s board, nine-zero-zero in the a.m. was the time she got to watch a show. She continually asked (asks) if its nine-zero-zero yet. She’s asked today about ten times. Nine-zero-zero has come and gone and she’s happily doing some cutting and trying to get her brother to laugh. She’s forgotten all about shows for the moment. Victory is mine!
But nine-zero-zero in the p.m. is a whole other story.
As a teacher, I realized years ago that any papers I graded after nine-zero-zero in the evening took significantly longer to complete and I was more prone to making mistakes. So I decided for my students benefit and my sanity not to grade papers past nine-zero-zero.
About two years ago, I realized that any crafting, sewing, or various projects I worked on after nine-zero-zero were also fraught with mistakes and redos and angst. So I decided for my benefit and sanity not to do crafts past nine-zero-zero (unless its an emergency situation – like Christmas is tomorrow kind of emergency.)
The conclusion? My brain doesn’t function well at that time of night. All I can really manage is to read a book or watch some TV or climb into bed and turn the lights off. I usually go for the first two, but recently I’ve considered the value of the third.
For the past two months, nine-zero-zero has had an added specialness. Little Man wakes up. He’s been going to bed so easily! By 7:00, he’s dressed in pjs, has had stories and prayers, and is sleeping. And then the clock hits nine-zero-zero and its as if we’re living in a Cinderella story and the clock has struck midnight, the fairy godmother’s magic has ended and chaos breaks out! Whining. Crying. And on occasion screaming.
Is his hand stuck in the bed rails? No. Does he have a dirty diaper? No. Did his sister wake him up? No. Is he hungry? No. Does he have gas? Usually not. Some internal clock in his body says, “Hey – you! Little Man! Wake up!! Wake up, wake up, wake up!” And he does.
Nine-zero-zero. So unfunctional. I have a stack of ungraded papers, a slew of unfinished projects, and a sleepy crying baby. The Crazies. I should just go to bed.
At least he’s cute.