I was looking forward to the long weekend – taking an extra day off tomorrow in anticipation of my favorite holiday of the year. I got home a little earlier than usual, only to have to deal with a relatively minor last-minute work issue that prevented me from decompressing as quickly as I had hoped.
And it all went downhill from there. While on the phone with the help desk, both Sophie and Chloe were yelling in my ear. Usually I reserve one ear for each of the girls. But since I was stuck on the phone, one ear had to handle two girls at once. Tough, to say the least. Sophie was in rare form – stomping and crying upon hearing the word ‘no’ – no matter why we were saying ‘no.’ She’s been particularly resistant to ‘no’ lately. Don’t know if it’s just a phase, if she’s just asserting her five-year old power, or if she’s just plum tired.
Anyway, the whining went ON and ON and ON. And I didn’t unwind. In fact, I was more wound up after a couple of hours at home than I was when I first arrived. Not the best way to start the long weekend. A little after 8 pm, Sophie came downstairs – still overtired, still teary – and asked me to read her a bedtime story. I freely admit that I resisted a little bit – I just wanted some peace and quiet. But her big doe-eyes are extremely hard to resist. So I went upstairs and read her a quick book, and she was happy again. And I finally started to relax. And breathe a bit easier.
Sometimes all it takes is a little book and a little snuggle, and suddenly all is right in the world again.