Last night I crept up the stairs holding my cup of chamomile tea around 11:00 and looked over my shoulder at the children in my kitchen. I saw JD laying on the island wearing only his lacrosse shorts. Eliza and a friend were drawing a Colorado flag on his chest and mixing up some henna to cover their outline. A male friend of theirs was standing nearby, chatting with the girls and swinging his car keys on one of those lariats they all carry narrowly missing our cabinets with every circle he made. The floor was strewn with lacrosse equipment, flip flops, soccer sweats and a damp towel (cause of wetness, undetermined). As I reached the top stair, the doorbell rang and, from the sound of it, at least two more people entered our home. They were not using their inside voices.
So that's it. Summer nights with teenagers. I drifted off to a light sleep, but let's be honest, it's impossible to really hit a serious REM stage under those conditions. Even though we're not reading bedtime stories and enjoying bath time, I still won't give up total consciousness until the kids have closed up the house and come in to say goodnight. Now that I think about it, the nighttime routine is basically the same except our roles are somewhat reversed: I'm being tucked in now. I'll still get up from time to time to peek in at their sweet sleeping faces, but it's usually around 2:00 in the morning, and as I step into their rooms to make my way to their beds I make every effort not to fixate on the fact that nearly every inch of their floors are covered with clothes I swear I just washed. I'm just glad they're safe and sound. That's all that really matters.
I'm wearing this.
We'll be at a lacrosse game this evening, so jeans are in order. Of course, based on the forecast, this entire look may be covered with a raincoat at game time. "Can't get enough of watching sports in the rain," she said with a forced enthusiasm.
gratitude: having a home the kids like to hang out in, Geoff's cancelled trip for next week, new sport adventures, my voice returning
thanks and love.