Yes, it’s George Clooney.
It’s relevant; trust me.
Just go with it.
Last night, a reader told me how much she envies the quality time that I spend with my girls.
Lisa, this is for you.
It’s nearly 10 pm. Okay, maybe it’s only 9:30, but it might as well be two in the morning. The fight to keep my eyes open was lost before it started.
Katie is sitting in my bed. This is the closest we have come to ‘spending quality time together’ in a week. In between Brooke’s bedtime and hers, she climbs into my bed, we pick a show to watch together, it starts, I pass out and drool on the pillow, and eventually Luau comes to bed and sends her into her own room. Quality parenting right there, I know. But reserve your judgement. Because it gets worse.
Katie tweaked her shoulder a couple of days ago. It’s been bugging her ever since. In the last fifteen minutes, she’s asked me to rub it, push on it, stretch it, and massage it. I’ve tried to oblige, but I’m literally falling asleep with my hands on her back.
“Mama,” I hear somewhere in my subconscious, “it really hurts.”
I try to process the words through a thick haze of sleep. Clearly I am not successful because what I come up with in response to, “Mama it really hurts” is ..
… are you ready for this …?
“It’s okay, honey, It happens. As long as you learn from it, you’re doing fine.”
It’s the peal of laughter that snaps me into a terribly uncomfortable state of semi-consciousness.
I say something super eloquent and very meaningful.
Katie says, “Mama, that was pathetic.”
I’m looking around the room trying to figure out where I am and what this really cute kid is doing in my bed and why she’s calling me Mama. I repeat what seemed to work before.
“Do you know what you just said?” she asks. I wrack my poor little shell-shocked brain and hope against hope that whatever it was, it didn’t involve George Clooney naked.
In slow motion, the fog lifts and the pieces begin to come together.
“Um, I said something about it being okay as long as you learned from it.”
“Right,” she says. “In response to me telling you my shoulder hurt. Nice try, Mama. Very motherly, but um, no.”
We laugh. As tired as I am, it feels good.
I pull her into a hug, tell her I love her, say I’m sorry that her shoulder hurts and close my eyes, hoping upon hope that George has waited for me to come back.
Oh look, it’s George.
So, what have we learned today, friends?
Ah, yes …
It helps to actually stay awake to spend quality time with your kids.