Lately I've been getting to work around or even before first light, about 7:00 AM, and I haven't been leaving until 6:00 PM or so, well after dark, which means that basically I only get about an hour to spend with Shae before bedtime. I hate it. Usually I am home in time to help with her bath and wrangle into her pajamas for prayers, but yesterday she didn't take a nap at school and she gave G a hell of a time at dinner before she fell asleep at the table:
I feel absolutely terrible about it. I already feel like I spend so little time with her, and I didn't get to see her at all yesterday. I mean, it happens, and when G was working he would have days when the same thing would happen, but ... I'm not used to it. It's weird, and it makes me feel guilty. Even guiltier than my poor liberal Catholic heart usually feels. Especially because when I went in to check on her:
I of course took her picture with the flash because I am the worst parent in the world.
It was weirdly quiet last night, especially so early, and we couldn't quite figure out what to do -- she was in bed by 6:20 or so, and we're normally trying to get through the nighttime routine for another hour and a half or so. There was no laughing, no screaming for potty, no streaking up and down the hall. Eventually I got bored and tried to cause trouble by taking pictures of the cats (conveniently captioned below, because some people don't believe me when I say we have three cats).
So there you go. A very exciting night in my house, which is code for "Sorry, I am so busy working that I don't even know if I still have a life."