I realized that mainlining caffeine and spending twelve hours a day reading the New York Times in abject horror wasn't doing good things for my limbic system. You should always be kind to your limbic system.
Also, the kids have a way of pushing you right to the edge of the surrendering them at the fire station precipice before ratcheting back into their cute and lovable mode.
Case in point, from tonight's dinner:
I taught them this song a while back hoping we could sing it at meals on special occasions and if I don't initiate it one of them starts it off EVERY SINGLE MEAL. Even if we are eating out of a bag in the car. Swoon.
The secret is that the real reason you have kids is so that you can live in a summer camp ALL THE TIME.
On the work front several new opportunities to work towards goals that are measurable and valuable (does this sound sufficiently vague?) have arisen and I am spending lots and lots of time on that, which necessarily displaces some of the time I spend working my cortisol levels into the red zone by opening up the newspaper or turning on the radio. Tralalala!
(Also grading. Holy dang the grading.)
Anyway, I am rowing tomorrow and I need to finish working on one of my papers so I don't look a fool in my eleven o'clock meeting, so I need to get moving.
(Ryan is upstairs monitoring Mary, who spilled an enormous cup of dirty water in James's closet while watercoloring in her Elsa dress two hours after bedtime. #magicalspecial)