This is my dream...
It is dinner time. We've had a relaxing afternoon of nap and play. I'm finishing dinner preparations while Brooklyn sets the table and the babies are playing contentedly. Ray walks in the door no later than 5:45. He has time to put his things down and say hi to everyone before we sit down to eat. We all sit at the table, sharing pleasant conversation and delicious, healthy food. When we are finished, we all pitch in to clean up the kitchen and then have time to play together before baths and bedtime.
This is my reality...
It is 4:30pm. The kids are whining for their eight billionth snack. I am counting the minutes until we can pile into the car to pick Aunt Jenna up from work, trying to time it perfectly so neither of us is waiting on the other. By 5:30 we are home and I begin my final dinner preparations. No matter how prepared I am, I always find myself running around the kitchen like a chicken with my head cut off, practically throwing food at Grayson while allowing both kids to watch shows on their respective devices. Madi is either hanging out, content in some corner, or wailing to have her very minimal needs met. Ray walks in somewhere in the neighborhood of 6:30, as I am frantically trying to finish getting the food put away (we have issues with fruit flies) and get the kids upstairs for a little play before bed.
It is dinner time. We've had a relaxing afternoon of nap and play. I'm finishing dinner preparations while Brooklyn sets the table and the babies are playing contentedly. Ray walks in the door no later than 5:45. He has time to put his things down and say hi to everyone before we sit down to eat. We all sit at the table, sharing pleasant conversation and delicious, healthy food. When we are finished, we all pitch in to clean up the kitchen and then have time to play together before baths and bedtime.
This is my reality...
It is 4:30pm. The kids are whining for their eight billionth snack. I am counting the minutes until we can pile into the car to pick Aunt Jenna up from work, trying to time it perfectly so neither of us is waiting on the other. By 5:30 we are home and I begin my final dinner preparations. No matter how prepared I am, I always find myself running around the kitchen like a chicken with my head cut off, practically throwing food at Grayson while allowing both kids to watch shows on their respective devices. Madi is either hanging out, content in some corner, or wailing to have her very minimal needs met. Ray walks in somewhere in the neighborhood of 6:30, as I am frantically trying to finish getting the food put away (we have issues with fruit flies) and get the kids upstairs for a little play before bed.
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