Predictable, but wonderful. It’s a trick to squeeze everything into a day and I’m a sucker for a routine. So after dinner the children are immediately shooed away to take baths and put on their jammies. It’s go, go, go. Usually Daddy has a little time to read to the girls before he has to start math. In between their math lessons the boys alternate practicing their piano. Before you know it, it’s time for bed. To some it might be dull and monotonous, but to me it’s my favorite part of the day.
From the kitchen I get to listen to the plinking of piano keys, screaming, running little feet, snippets of Pinocchio, laughing, crying, Marc yelling in despair, “Eighteen take away twelve DOES NOT equal sixteen!” And it just makes me smile. Home, with everybody in it. It’s a crazy, perfect place.
I love this picture of Marc trying to figure out what Gideon was even doing on his math test. (I would feel sorry for him, but I don’t.)
And then it’s over. We’re cramming people in their beds with an entourage of books and stuffed animals and wondering where the day went.
I have no idea. But I’m more than happy to do it all over again.