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.