Today was another sick day, the big difference being that Bryan went to work while the boys stayed home. Cooper had the energy of a boy that is suddenly feeling much better and doesn't want to be stuck in his bed. Peter got sicker as the day progressed, but still had the energy to tattle on his siblings. And Phoebe was thrilled that her brothers were home and terribly grumpy that they were supposed to sit on their beds and rest rather than play with her. But really, the day went pretty well.
It wasn't until I was folding laundry around two this afternoon that I realized I had been on duty since I'd woken up the day before. Sure, I'd slept a little, but Sophie woke much more than usual last night, so my longest stretch of nighttime rest had been less than four hours. From the time I got out of bed, I'd been working. The only reason I was getting the luxury of time to fold clothes (yes, I said luxury) was that Sophie was taking her one long nap of the day and I was enforcing quiet time on the others.
I wonder how many jobs require you to be on duty for more than thirty hours straight? It's now eleven at night and sitting to type on the blog is the longest break I've taken all day. You want to know the craziest thing about that? I'm tired, but at the same time I'm kind of energized. I feel like I've worked hard and accomplished a lot without getting all crazy and stressed. Often by bedtime I'm frazzled. I just want to shut my door and wait while the kids finally nod off. But I didn't feel that same tension tonight.
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