Why?!!

Why are my kids the best conversationalists at bedtime? They pull me in with tales of their day, epic philosophic quandaries, societal observations, and enticing insights of their inner world. Meanwhile, my brain is turning to mush.

My nearest and dearest know that, since I became a mom of three, I turn into a pumpkin at 9pm. I’m still animating this organic machine I’ve been given, but my operating system begins the shutdown process on the dot.

My thoughts start tumbling around like drunks on a ship, slurring speech and bumping into everything. Then my kids come at me with their hyped up, bedtime adrenaline conversations and all the drunks in my head started clamoring to get their responses in. It gets messy.

If only we could get all these conversations handled at dinner time. If only I could find the magic recipe to get them to settle at night. But they are my children. I’ve always functioned better at night. Until I had three of them.

Sometimes I do get the chance to stop and listen for a bit. There’s often a pause where I feel time diverging, and I can choose to sit and enjoy my kid for a few minutes, or I can wander off and do whatever chore I was getting to. In those moments, I can feel the future of each choice. I’m aiming for the future where I don’t regret missed opportunities for everyday, regular moments with my kids.

This is what I remind myself of when they’re spouting a mile a minute while I’m exhaustedly tucking them in, or saying goodnight. While they’re sucking me in with their word tornadoes.

These are some of those moments you don’t think you’ll miss when they’re gone.