Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The Times they are a Changing

When Will was still a little bit of a thing Matt started playing soft ball once a week.  I came to DREAD Tuesday nights.  The chaos of juggling a newborn and a young toddler was enough to drive me to bottles of wine and Advil. 

There was no good way to get them both to bed.  Will needed to be rocked until he was O. U. T. but I couldn't leave Sam alone while I tried to lull the cranky baby into sleep land.  I couldn't put Sam to bed first because if I left Will's sight he would shriek at the top of his lungs making it impossible to settle the toddler who was learning to assert his independence by fighting bed time. 

It was a juggling act that usually ended in tears from all parties. 

So when Matt announced last week that soft ball was starting up I wanted to curl into a ball, put my hands over my ears and pretend it wasn't so.  I think I even grumbled about it to him.  The memories of those horrible nights a year ago came flooding back.  Can you have PTSD from the terror imparted by your children? 

BUT

Could this kid be any cooler?
It was fine.  Last night Matt headed to his soft ball game and the boys and I settled into our nightly routine.  Dinner, then play time, then bed.  I changed up Will's routine a little to minimize the amount of time that Sam would be left alone to his own devices and Will rolled with the flow.  Not a peep when I layed him down in his crib after some family snuggles on the couch.  And Sam sat quietly watching Sprout's Good Night show for the couple of minutes I left him alone. 

I was free to spend a few quality minutes loving on my big boy and then focus on getting him to bed.  Both boys were quiet and asleep within 20 minutes of each other.  I was amazed.   I even vacuumed the family room! 

Does someone have a cape I can borrow?  Because ya'll I felt like Super Mom! 

My babies are growing up and while I have twinges of grief for their early days we are settling into this stage of life quite well and I'm really enjoying it. 

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