Here's the thing. Mike travels. It sucks. But we have learned to deal with it and pray like an insane amount to know what to do to get him home again with his family every night where he belongs.
Until that happens, it's tough putting 3 kids to bed on my own. But I don't resent him for it. I did in the beginning. But I know he wants to be home helping me.
So there I am at 7:30pm sharp wrestling the baby into jammies while she cries and I sweat. Then I move on to the middle child who I have to chase and pin down; further sweating. The oldest is refusing the turn off video games after 7 warnings and now requires physical removal, gripes and huffs off to his room to refuse the follow 5 steps that are his bed time routine.
Sometimes I have to have to break the routine and take a break from sweating. Tonight I decided it was music night. I collected the musical toy bin and we crowded around my drum set. And we rocked out. Loudly. It was awesome. Every mother needs a decent drum kit. Sylvia was on the maracas. Evan played the floor tom. And Zane was on keyboards. And superbonus: my drumming didn't make Sylvia cry this time!
In other news, Brainbloodvolume was a nice album to run to today. Who knew? Shrink wrap the planet.
