Friday. It was the end of a long week.
And yes, every week is long. And yes, I say that at the end of each one. I know that I rarely come home on a Friday afternoon, full of energy and ready to pounce into the next activity with all of the energy that the start of the weekend deserves.
But this week was different. Depleting. Dragging from one moment to the next. Call it lack of sleep. Toddlers, lots of work, and a big ‘ol pregnant belly do not equal easy sleeping.
It was just Baby and I, in for the evening. And so I introduced her to the perfect, end-of-week, happy treat that is breakfast for dinner.
Raisin Bran and a NutriGrain bar for her. Kix for me.
And we sat on the couch, our bowls of cereal balanced on our laps or on the cushions between us, and read. Half a dozen stories while we crunched away. And a quick video or two (or was it three or four?) courtesy of YouTube. Sesame Street snippets on YouTube – now that is pure brilliance.
I second-guessed myself. I questioned the lack of nutrition, the lack of routine, the missing family-dinner talks about our days. Videos during dinner? Yeah, I know…
But I did it anyway. It just felt right. Like the thing we both needed. Or maybe just what I needed. And, sometimes, that is OK.
The next day, M asked me what she’d had for dinner; we’re always curious about what we missed.
I outlined the menu. He raised an eyebrow. Joked about my parenting decision making.
“Actually”, I countered, “I think that was a stellar moment in my parenting career.”
He gave me that look. Yeah, uh-huh, ok, you go ahead and believe that.
And you know what? I do.